The tears fall without warning.
You’re happy. But it’s mixed with deep seeded sadness. It’s complicated. You feel overwhelmed. You want to scream, yell and throw China against the wall. But all you have is corningware. You want to shut out the world, then bake a cake with chocolate frosting and watch old home movies with a box of tissue.
But as you eat the cake, you swallow the salty tears that keep falling. And they’re a mixture of sad-joyful-why-not-me tears. Because it’s never me tears. It’ll never be me tears.
And those are the toughest tears to swallow. When something you want so bad can’t happen. The risks out weigh the reward. And no one is willing to take that leap of faith. And there isn’t a Taylor Swift song in the world that can help.
Then you realize half the cake is gone.
So you turn off the North Dakota trip from 1991 and Christmas footage circa 1993, and you wipe those tears and do some squats.
Because tomorrow’s another day.
And you will not cry.