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For the first time in goodness knows how many parties or nebulous social events I was "the girl who broke down and cried." The First. Time. Ever.

And it felt shitty.

And it felt okay.

And it felt good.

And it felt mildly vindicating.

And it felt shitty.

And maybe that was my body's way of saying: "It's been a long time since we sobbed uncontrollably - maybe it's time to give it a shot."

Or maybe it doesn't mean anything - maybe it's just that, for the first time in ever, I was "that girl at the party who broke down and cried." And that, dear friends, is a stigma I may never lose - which, ironically enough, makes me feel a little like crying.

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