A Good Cry

Most women understand the therapeutic release that comes from a good cry, whether that cry lasts a few minutes or half an hour.

Men don't get it.

The last couple of weeks have been difficult for me. I was sick for 7-10 of them. I've been helpless to help Tori in her unfortunate trip to CO to see her dad; although I hear about it and it affects me, there's nothing I can do. And even though I enjoyed it, there was stress in preparing for and giving the class I taught on Saturday.

This afternoon I spent an hour outside in 100 degree weather and ended up a little sick. So I skipped super and laid on the couch trying to keep my 7up down, which didn't put me in a happy place.

Then a silly conversation made me start crying. It was the straw that broke Misty's back; and it wasn't an important straw. I cried for 2-3 minutes, and when it was over I felt better.

The problem was that it freaked Steve out. So he starts asking me, "What's wrong?" And for some reason, "Nothing," didn't satisfy him. He was really sweet and I know he wanted to fix it; to make things right -- that's a guys response to most situations. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it.

But nothing was wrong.

Every time I'd tell him nothing was wrong with me, his response would be, "Yes, there is." After the third or fourth time, it began to bug me. Was he trying to say I DEFIANTLY had a problem?

Really, nothing was wrong with me. What tension or stress had accumulated over the last few weeks was washed away by my small crying fit. I feel better than I have in weeks.

Steve on the other hand is convinced something is wrong.

I'll have to find someone way to relive his mind.