The distinct cause and attributes of your recent state of grief don’t make a lot of sense to the casual observer.

And even if someone made enough time to stand close at the details of your day, there seems to be no connecting line between how the day started and how it is ending now. We’ve all read Russian literature and learned that sometimes the heroes who had just saved the Tzar’s life don’t show up for the celebration ceremony and how sometimes the protagonists of some stories, even while victorious, will adamantly follow an invisible line of tragedy and resignation, eventually putting a gun in their mouths, governed by the dark, overwhelming force of disappointment. But you’re not a Russian person in one of those stories. Everything was going fine, to the best of our knowledge. We’ve seen how you waited patiently at the line in that pizza joint, light-headed, thinking about nothing but the melting cheese in the stuffed crust and the short trip home. The last thing you did before taking the elevator upstairs was pause to take a casual look at the street cleaner outside. But even if you’ve, as usual, spent all the time that followed thinking about the street cleaner’s life and whether or not his job is a fulfilment of the purpose of the existence of his soul, this could only go as far as making you stare at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds before you nod it off. Yes, even for a person like you. It is our general estimation that the reason you suddenly broke into tears while eating your dinner was a dreary bit of breath that has mistaken your open window for your neighbor’s, who probably was having a bad day.

That, or you’ve been listening to sad songs all day, every day.