Notes from Underground

It's easiest to cry when you are alone.

Although, I am no longer ashamed of tears. I cry when I am walking home, or in the car, or at the store. I cry during lectures and I cry laying on my Dad's bed. I smile too, though. I think that is what makes it okay. I smile while scooping ice cream or finding the perfect bracelet for a granddaughter. I smile when I walk, or while I am in the car, or while I am shopping at the grocery store. I dial 668-5622 over and over again, which makes me feel crazy, but it's just nice to hear is voice on the answering machine sometime. See, he still exist. He's just not here. Just because he is not here doesn't make his things go away or his love any less real. Which brings me to Dostoevsky.

There is enjoyment in pain and suffering.

It's what makes us human. If there was no sadness there would be no happiness. Every tear I try to count. It's hard to count how many times you love someone. I try not to wipe the tear stains from my face. I want to see that in the mirror. It shows my love. If I was not heart broken right now I would either have no love for my Dad or be dead. And for him, and for my love for him. I will cry. I will be strong but that doesn't mean I can't cry. If I didn't feel I would not be alive, and for that, this is why humans must feel pain. To live.
So there is something right about the Underground Man, as much as I would not like to be him. We must take our grief seriously. There is something real about it.

But it's still easiest to cry when you are alone.