Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Reader Mail: Anatomy of a Cry

I get messages from time to time from my readers.  Questions.  Usually I answer these personally and privately.  Not this time.  A Reader who wished to remain anonymous asked me Why I cry.  After all, I have it made, right?  Full time, C/D cup natural breasts, accepted at work, friends, blog... what in hell do I have to cry about?  Especially compared to a CD who dresses only occasionally and feels the Pain constantly.  Like this Reader.

Well Reader, I'll answer your question for All to read.  I will document my last four big crying jags.  All of which occurred in the past five days.


At work, I overheard a mom talk about her son, who wasn't there.  She was shopping for his birthday with her daughter, and she mentioned that he collects the "City" Legos.  I put this out of my mind for the last hour of my shift.  I clocked out and went to my car.

You see, back when Wife and I first married, I collected a certain type of Legos too.  I collected the Castles.  Wife would give them to me for Christmas.  And on snow days, we would make hot chocolate, put on a CD and build them together.  And we'd leave them built a week or so, then take them apart for the next snow day.  It was Something we did a lot before my Daughter was born.  Just the two of us, in our home (be it an apartment or our house) surrounded by a snow storm, nice and warm and playing.

There's still one Castle set that We never built,  Still in the box, untouched.  And I will never build it now.  Now we are apart.  The days of us as Man and Wife, well, they're done.  I highly doubt we'll ever live together again.  Maybe I can sell the old sets on eBay someday.  Or keep them for Daughter when she's old enough.

So I thought about this, sitting in my car.  I thought about what I gave up to be True to myself.  What is past.  What is Future.  All symbolized in plastic bricks.  I Cried my eyes out.

A few days before that, I passed a cemetery.  And I thought about my eventual end.  You see, Wife is a few years younger than me.  We figure I'll die first.  And the plan was that I would be cremated, and she'd keep the ashes.  And when she died, my ashes would be put in her coffin (as a catholic, she doesn't want cremation)  That way we could be together through eternity.  I thought about this.  And how in all likelihood, this will never happen.  I will die alone and my remains will, well, whatever.  That togetherness will not happen.  And I cried.  I cried so hard, I pulled over to pull myself together.

A couple nights ago, I spoke to my six year old daughter on the phone.  After we talked, I went to another room of the house I'm in, and cried my eyes out.

A week ago, I went to bed a little early.  I was wearing the clover necklace that I had once given Lisa.  I looked at it as I took it off for the night, and I thought of Her.  Cried myself to sleep.  I still miss her.  A Lot.

Tonight, I sat on the porch.  I was wearing a Sun dress, one of Lisa's.  I looked down at myself.  Even a year ago, this night would've been far fetched.  My hair now touches my shoulders.  My nails are painted.  My breasts hold up the dress.  No forms- me.  I am a full time woman now.  I'm still getting used to it.  Now and forever, I am a Woman.  I paid the price.  I've earned it.

Let's make that number of Cries five.  I cried typing this.

So, Reader, I hope this answers your question.  And keep the comments coming... and the questions.  I love both.

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