Gina Trejo

I Almost Cried Today

Gina Trejo

Today I was in the car listening to public radio and I wanted to cry. I listened to what the entirety of the global population is enduring: teachers on screens, planes on the ground, teens attempting to leave their mortality at the foot of their childhood beds. I almost cried, but I felt the tears that were welled up in my eyes fighting back against whatever force it is that would have made them roll down my cheeks and into the creases of my nose. Like a child doing everything they can on the first day of preschool to not let go of Mommy’s leg, my tears stayed inside my eyes in fear of entering a pandemic. I swear the tears whispered to one another, I better get paid for this and I’ve heard about the market. I wanted to shake the tears out of my eyes. I wanted to drain them like dirty bathwater. I wanted to cry. I could have been a driving hazard, eyes clouded up with tears. If I had caused an accident next to the lake, it would have been just another tragedy sitting on top of the world’s pain. I gripped the steering wheel harder. The news anchor said, In other news, but at the end of each story, she asks And how has coronavirus affected this operation? or What would this look like if we weren’t in lockdown? So, it’s all in the same news. And it’s all on the radio, blasting out to the informed citizens of the world. And all the informed citizens are gripping their steering wheels. They don’t have it the worst. I don’t have it the worst. I’m living through it, but what does my inability to get out of bed in the morning mean to the world? I almost cried today, but I couldn’t.