The girl who cries every day was born at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean in a soupy town where it is customary to weep several times a day. There, tears don’t drip down one’s face, they undulate from one’s eyes like ripples of rainwater dimpling a lake. In fact, the term “waterworks” was coined by a native ocean-being to describe the all-embodying process of crying these special tears. The girl, is of course, a water sign and this necessarily means she is deeply emotional and always feeling five different things at once. So, you can only imagine what it’s been like for her here on Earth. Her eyes are always ringed with red and never dry. People can’t seem to understand why the girl chooses to live with a perpetually flooded basement, why she prefers salt water to New York tap, how she spends hours studying the spout of the sink because it reminds her of the sea swallowing the river. Sure, she cries every day, but I wouldn’t call her a crybaby… I think she’s just a sensitive soul. I met her on the downtown A train on a stale afternoon in the middle of July… I looked over and saw a few tears snake down the girl’s cheek… she was reading a book the way sea anemones unfurl into color. See, that’s the thing about the girl, she cries because she knows that the most wonderful things in this world exist right below a thick layer of jaded indifference. That’s why the moon will make her cry, the tidepools can make her sob, the way the sun sets so suddenly you almost forget about the speed of time, how the rain here feels like a relatively dry sunny afternoon back home, how Hurricane Harbor reminds her of childhood … I tried to tell her how much she means to me, but this only got her misty-eyed (to put it mildly). When I reached over to hug her, I slipped right off her tear-slicked shoulders and into a lazy river.