Love is Like Stepping on a Lego

They're not tears! Just sweat...

My throat tightens and my eyes burn, and I know what will come next. I am ready for the ground to swallow me up, or for the school to evacuate and flood again. I do not want to do this now, and especially not here. But tears come anyway, and my throat bobs in an effort to swallow. It is not that I do not like to cry. On the contrary, I cry quite often. But I do not like express this vulnerability before others. I am the happy one. I'm the one who is the shoulder to cry on, the one who is good with people and good with emotions. But suddenly I am not so happy, and I realize I have not been so happy for a while now. Except... this time is different. This time when I turn in defeat, it is not an empty, dark apartment surrounding me. It is not the silence which echoes back painfully, or my own broken expression reflecting back. It is a pair of arms circling around me as I stutter through an admission of need. It is a warm body which holds me close and let's my tears (and probably some snot) run freely. It is understanding. It is comfort. It is safety. It is exactly what I needed. And then we are all singing together, and laughing, and my eyes dry and my throat loosens a bit. I love you. But this time the words aren't not meant for just one.