I just drove for fifteen minutes in the rain back from dance. My body heat caused the car to fog up and I wasn't even able to see the lines on the road beforehand anyways. To compound the difficulty, I was crying. 
Dance Class was different tonight. The theory stands that rainy weather crawls under your skin and brings out hurt that you thought was taken care of. In a class of 19 girls, there are all different stereotypes, yet all of us were vulnerable tonight. There are girls who have drama in their life and would rather spend time healing their wounds than dance. There are girls who are typically good dancers yet feel a new pressure to improve and can't. There are even girls who seem to have it all together but are upset because their beautiful locks got wet walking into the dance studio. There are girls who are injured and sit in the corner watching and hurting because they want nothing more to participate. There are also girls who feel unnoticed despite constant effort and work in class. Nevertheless, we were all there doing the same stretches, listening to the same songs, and feeling the same way (despite differences in the origin of such feelings).
Everyone's hurt seemed to make a fog in the room. It was ethereal. I thought I was alone, but the worst part is that I knew I wasn't. I knew I wasn't the only one with such a burden. After class, I sat with a friend as she shared some of her hurts and frustrations recently. Her gorgeous eyes glossed over for an instant than she shook her head quickly and her front came back up. Indeed, I wasn't alone. However, this time, it wasn't a comfort, but a tragedy.
I cried my way home because I realized that's how so many gatherings are. That's how so many humans feel. Yet, We hide it.
There was no hiding it at Dance. The rain brought all walls down; all hurt revealed. It was overwhelming so I cried. 
I can't imagine seeing the hurt in Haiti. All walls down. All hurt revealed. How overwhelming....
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