Especially when they are dressed up sitting in Atlanta traffic making them ridiculously late for the ballet. The ballet they waited months for. The ballet of one of the most treasured love stories of all time. Yup…big girls certainly cry.
They cry behind the wheel of their mini van, make up and all crawling thru the packed interstate on a Saturday afternoon of no particular significance. They cry at the idea of a plan not working even after they rearranged it to begin with. They cry at the mere thought of slipping out of their dress clothes, washing off their make up, rotting on the couch in front of a plethora of Redbox cases for yet another weekend. Yea….big girls cry.
But then they put on their big girl Spanx and have a mediocre carb laden lunch/dinner in a restaurant they have been to a million times (that they can’t quite afford) drowning out the buzz of stranger conversation with D’angelo blaring in their ears.
Things don’t work for a myriad of reasons. We aren’t God so quite honestly there is no way to tell why they don’t. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to be at the ballet. Or perhaps I wasn’t meant to be in the area. Maybe I was meant to be sitting alone in a restaurant full of people guzzling a long island ice tea, writing & listening to music. Maybe in this whole messed up day (gross thick black hair in salad included) there is a lesson. Maybe the lesson is to not let things like Life get to you when Life doesn’t necessarily go your way. Or maybe it’s just a lesson in crying. Everybody needs a good, frustrated cry every now and then….even big girls.