Almost tears.

Its been four years minus a small handful of days since I last cried. I don't just mean tears either because I get those all the time when I accidentally pull out a nose hair. I mean a good cry. I simply do not cry. I like to say its because I'm an "iron pillar of masculine strength". While I may wish for that to be true, it is unfortunately not. This isn't to say that I'm not moved by things or sometimes wish that I could cry. I wish I could cry all the time. I hear that its even healthy. I even think of times when it would be appropriate to cry. I am moved by both simple things and complex things; the moon on a clear morning before the sun comes up, flowers growing where they should not, that damned biggest loser show (embarrassing, I know), and things far more serious. Tonight I was driving and thinking, which I do often, and a thought entered my tiny yearning brain. I love food and I would even venture to say I might enjoy it more than most people I know. It's never a chore and always enjoyable. I love it. But what about people who don't have food? Then I imagined a little scenario. There was a little girl I met in Romania (you can read about her in "Dandelions") and I will never forget her or her brown eyes. She wanted me to buy flowers from her, but I refused. I imagined her asking me for food and me telling her no. Then a flood of other children's faces flooded my mind, campers I had at Tilikum, children of friends, even my family and my friends. And for a split second a tear wanted to push itself out onto my cheek. Selfishly, I held it back and thought of something else. Those images are sticky though. Especially telling them no. And that's what I do. This is me wondering what its like to be somebody who does something about passions and convictions. This is me in awe of the inconsistencies of my own life. This is me hating money for seeming to hold me back from doing something about these feelings (which I know is a total farse). This is a small bit of the dissonance I feel between my mind and my heart. May their blood be on my hands if I go on as before, and continue to do nothing.