Snoopy=Sappy

Don't you hate it when you become the worst version of yourself? In this case, I am not talking about turning into this enraged person who can't control their anger and therefore turns into their own worst enemy-- I am talking about when an already sensitive person takes it too far, when a tear becomes a blubbering mess of nonsense. That, my friends, is what occurred tonight.

Costas and Valerie are pretty much our connections in the Plaka. They own two jewelry stores and have become good friends with the Myhans. Valerie is American, but fell in love with Costas and moved here. They are two of the sweetest people and are always there to help. If you need anything, you just go to their shop and they will tell you how to get somewhere, give you recommendations, etc. Valerie, along with co-owning the store, is a vocal music teacher at the local international school. She asked Captain if we would be interested in coming to the dress rehearsal of the musical, "Snoopy" so that her kids would have an audience to feed off of. We all agreed to go so he brought in a shuttle bus and we drove to the play-- a fun field trip.

The characters in the play ranged from middle school to high school and they were SO talented. The acting was wonderful and they harmonized well. The musical numbers mostly had to do with being a kid, growing up and the toils that come along with coming into your own. I just couldn't believe how great the girl who played Snoopy was, this sassy chick who spouted her lines like she was a natural. Charlie Brown was played by a boy who I'm sure empathized with being pushed aside and walked over himself. Linus, with blanket in hand, fit the part perfectly- a know-it-all boy who just needed a little security in life. I found myself tearing up at different parts of the play, but I kept it relatively under control.

It wasn't until the last number (about believing in yourself) that I let one tear swell up and fall. I was just so impressed by these kids and how talented they were-- and it took me back to being a kid. More tears started to slowly slide down my face until the final curtain dropped and they took their last bow. The lights soon came back up and one by one people started to notice that I had teared up. It has become the semester-long joke and like wildfire it spread that "Ashton was crying!" I think my mom will back me up on this-- if there is one thing that makes being sensitive worse-- it's people noticing. It's like adding gasoline to a flame. Everyone looked at me, laughed and then it came: the burst of tears. DiMy grabs me and gives me a hug, then Mrs. Griff, then Captain. I was so embarrassed. Many people consoled me with "This is what I love about you!" but sometimes it is what I hate about myself. I hate having no control over my emotions, I hate not being able to pinpoint why I am emotional. It's just that if my heart in some unexplainable way is touched, the waterworks begin.

I don't know if it was the kids. I don't know if it was the music. I don't know if it was the innocence that I want to return to. I don't know if, subconsciously, I don't feel believed in (haha). It was just touching. We met some of the kids afterward and apparently they had heard rumors that "they were so good that someone cried." That made me realize that maybe that's my calling. Maybe, just maybe, God made people like me as the "bravo" that some people desperately need in their lives. I know that some of my proudest moments were when I looked in the audience or across the room and saw my mom crying. Dad and I both know when an article we have written is a success because it passes the "Ronda cried" test. Though sometimes it feels like a curse, it is also a blessing. It is a constant reminder that I am living, that my heart is still feeling and that there are things in life worth crying for.