Hiding Happy Tears

I’m not a conventional crier.
I don’t weep at funeral.
I no longer tear up during goodbyes.

I wail when I see the untimely remnants of a grove. I don’t usually cry on special occasions. I tend to stare at my feet and feel awkward when a friend shares the details of the most romantic wedding proposal, and the entire room starts to fill with happy whimpers of congratulations. I let out a few glorious sniffles the first time I was able to do 21 pull-ups, and I howled like a murdered soul when my doctor told me that my right shoulder and left hip were too damaged for any serious exercise.

I refused to cry on 9/11. My eyes get shiny when I think of Thanksgiving. My lips quivered in 1992 when the country of my birth celebrated the 500th anniversary of the “discovery” of a place that ended up losing most of its native souls.

I was told that I groaned and made a stink face the night of my birth.

I’m not a conventional crier, but I stared at my hands and tried to hide happy tears when my Piano Man gave me this All Hallow’s Eve present:
I was too happy to be able to control my emotions, so I just hugged my man, let the tears flow unchallenged, and told him, "I want to grow old with you too". My thoughtful man makes me incredibly happy.

Here are the rest of my presents:  
The frog and the copy of Hot Stuff: The Little Devil, are also from my Piano Man (I’ll tell you more about Hot Stuff one of these days). From other friends and relatives I received:
  • Dracula in Love
  • Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters
  • Stupid American History: Tales of Stupidity, Strangeness and Mythconceptions
  • The Action Bible: God’s Redemptive Story
  • Stupid Science: Weird Experiments, Mad Scientist, and Idiots in the Lab 
  • A cool ginormous red umbrella 
  • And a Jordi Labanda notebook
I have wonderful people in my life, and they are powerful enough to give me happy tears to hide.


Me trying to hide happy tears

My Piano Man before he opened his All Hallow's Eve present

My Piano Man trying to look inconspicuous as he debated whether or not to tell me that he already owned Batman: The Long Halloween (In my defense, my lover has a comic book library stashed under our bed) 

And last, but NEVER least, say hi to our pumpkin! Procured by my Piano Man, designed by our very own Halloween Princess, and carved by the Wickedest Eclectic Witch of Them All. 
The "crazy hat" was decorated by the Halloween Princess's mommy. 

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