Saturday, November 01, 2014

i'm not the kind of girl who cries at weddings

I'm not the type of girl who cries at weddings. I know, I know. Let me rephrase that. I'm not the type of girl who cries at weddings for the sake of being the girl who cries at weddings. I know that might not make sense for a girl who tends to cry at pretty much everything. Not cry really...tear up...get weepy...what have you. I'm emotional. Not a flighty, high-strung type of emotional like so many unfeeling people tend to label me but a person who can easily slip into the idea of what another might be feeling. I'm an empath. Or maybe just super sensitive to emotion. I empathize mightily with people I know and with people I do not know. I weep at the drop of a hat but I do not cry at weddings. Not that I have been to many weddings.

I did cry at my own. I blame the mister. I wasn't supposed to cry. In my head, I wasn't but I did. Darn that man of mine.

At that lovely shindig a few weeks ago I found myself tearing up.

Twice.

Just before the second time I caught myself in an eyeroll over a gaggle of girls exclaiming loudly about their anticipation of tears. It was really hard not to snort. Some empath, right? They were the type of girls who cry at weddings. Not because of the beautiful ceremony or the lovely glowing bride but because that is what one does. Cry at weddings. But I did. I cried. I got teared up, got weepy...what have you. It happened when the music began for the bride's entrance and everyone turned to watch and I did not. I did not turn when everyone else did because I caught the groom's face. I caught that moment. That magical moment of absolute love and his expression reminded me of my own from not an hour before when I cried  (welll...teared up, got weepy...) for the first time that night. His face was magical and the moment was breathtaking.

My own face reflected absolute love less than an hour before as I stood on the damp grass facing the mister in a crowd of people where we didn't know a soul. We stood their awkwardly together all gussied up and feeling anything but like a grown up. I forget what we were talking about but there was a moment when I thought to myself without really thinking that I love this man and that he loves me and then I grinned this stupid grin that must have looked different because the mister caught it and responded with a shy tilt of his head as he asked me "What?" I just looked at him, my eyes welling with tears and he took my hand and squeezed it. He knew.

So. I'm not the kind of girl who cries at weddings. I may tear up, get weepy...what have you. But I do not cry.

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