Just Another Tuesday

I once asked a friend why he’d caused such a scene at a wedding — there’d been raised voices, a shattered glass, and an impromptu dance in the midst of someone’s speech. All rather out of character for a man usually so measured. His response caught me off guard.

He gave a small shrug, his gaze drifting somewhere beyond the present, and said, quite plainly,

— It was one of those things, you know?

As if that were explanation enough. As if certain disturbances belonged to a category all their own — needing neither justification nor regret. I said nothing. There was, I sensed, a quiet truth in his words.

Sometimes life swells beneath the surface, and when it finds no proper channel, it bursts forth — in laughter, in tears, in chaos — at a wedding, or on some otherwise forgettable Tuesday.

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