My husband’s boss is getting married tomorrow and my husband being the multi-talented creature that he is is DJing their wedding. We were invited to the rehearsal dinner so he picked me up from work today and we went straight out to the burbs where they will be tying the knot. Did I mention I had to be to work at 7am? Yeah…
By the time we got out there, I was pretty tired and that combined with a multitude of other nonsense not worth going into, I was also pretty stressed (which let’s be honest was probably a product of the tiredness). As he set up his equipment and we talked about something not important enough for me to remember, I plopped on a chaise couch nearby and could feel the overwhelmedness creeping further and further up my chest until it had reached Tear Time.
Tear Time is nothing like Tea Time. There are no tasty crumpets or pretty china. No, Tear Time is a much messier affair. It begins around the time that the stress or fear or exhaustion fills you up so fully that it begins pushing the tears out of their ducts. It’s like when you roll the end of a toothpaste tube and, without meaning to, begin to push some toothpaste out of the end. You were just trying to move it around some but it had other plans.
Tear Time is usually followed by Reverse 3 Year Old Time. Reverse 3 Year Old Time is that moment directly following Tear Time when you absolutely refuse to cry. 3 year olds fake cry all the time, never producing any tears but just enough wailing for you to give them what they want. During Reverse 3 Year Old Time, your eyes begin to water up and your vision is blurred but hell if you’re going to blink and let them fall down your cheeks because if you do then it’s on. And you absolutely refuse to cry on the CTA train during rush hour.
Well today Tear Time was quickly followed by Reverse 3 Year Old Time on the stage as my husband was setting up for tomorrow’s event. We had met the Wedding Coordinator and knew that the bride and groom would be there any minute, so I was in full on Reverse 3 Year Old Time, determined not to let the water burst and embarrass myself.
“You alright?” my hubby asked mid cord wrappage.
“I’m just so stressed,” I whispered. He came over to me and sat down. At that moment I thought, “Give it up kid. There’s no holding this one back.” The water works turned on full speed and Reverse 3 Year Old Time was a distant memory.
My husband held me for a moment and then said, “I have the perfect thing for this,” getting up and leaving me with a wagging chin on this ragged antique chaise. He went over to his equipment and, even though I suspected what he was doing, I found myself laughing as our song began to play. He pulled me up and we danced slowly to our song for the first time since our wedding day, with me crying full out into his chest and him singing, “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie…”
Sometimes you just need a good cry and a slow dance to feel better. And sometimes those things don’t match up with your current surroundings. Sometimes that need to get in a good cry happens in your husband’s bosses reception hall when the couple or the staff could walk in at any moment. Sometimes it happens when people who don’t know and love you could see and possibly judge you for your supposed weakness.
Well, this being my year of risk and all, I feel like I have the duty to throw out a good ol’ screw it. Maybe I’ll be judged or worse, get the pitied, “What’s up?” with furrowed brow thrown in for effect. But as my husband says (about way too many disgusting things not worth mentioning here), “Better out than in.”