The Man Crying Over Ice Cream

“Look at that grown man crying over ice cream!" and “look what people choose to be sad about” were two of the comments from the people walking past the man sitting on the ground crying next to the ice cream he had dropped. You’d probably think something similar too if you were there. After all, we all have a certain amount of daily problems we tolerate in life, and seeing someone break down over something that seems simpler than our own struggles can irritate us. I mean, how much can you love ice cream for dropping it to make you upset? Worst case, you can just buy another one, right?

Of course, that is only what we see. None of us knows the story behind those tears. For example, what if you learned that the man actually hates ice cream? How would you think then? Probably even worse, because crying over losing something you do not even like seems more absurd than crying over something you love. So why is the man crying? What is the thing about that ice cream that we do not know? Let’s think. Maybe the ice cream reminds him of someone, maybe it reminds him of a person who took him out for ice cream on their first date. Maybe he even confessed, “I’ll tell you something, but you’ll think I’m a monster because I actually hate ice cream,” because let’s be honest, ice cream is one of the most universally loved things. Who really hates ice cream? But instead of hearing judgment or confusion, he got an understanding response like, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier, I brought you here without even asking.” Then our tearful friend explained that he was afraid the other person would think badly of him if he admitted it earlier, and also that maybe if he tried again, he might learn to like it. His partner then reaffirmed their love for ice cream and joked that if they had known this fact earlier, they wouldn’t have even gone on a date.

Sounds almost like a sweet little story, doesn’t it? What happened between them afterwards or what kind of relationship they had is irrelevant to us, because we are here to understand why the man sitting on the sidewalk is crying, so we should think only about what relates to that. And if the ice cream is truly a symbol of someone he loved, then it must be important enough to break him in the middle of the street. I think you would agree with that. If so, then if we approached him and asked about that person, he would likely tell us how important they were to him, how they were one of the few things that made him feel love for life itself. From someone who openly says he hates something as simple and universally loved as ice cream, we can guess his life didn’t have many colorful, bright or joyful things in it.

Alright, so we understand this much. The ice cream is tied to someone he truly loved, which gives some emotional explanation, but still not enough to justify all this sadness caused by dropping just an ice cream. So let’s dig deeper. Let’s try to figure out what happened to that person he kept praising. Maybe they drifted apart. Maybe they cut contact. But no, I think we need something heavier. Maybe one day, while everything was normal, a serious health problem appeared. We don’t know what exactly, but we know it was something with no solution, something that slowly turned into a ticking clock for one of them. Do not be fooled by our tearful friend’s current state. Back then, he never showed strong emotions, he never let his partner see his fear, because he wanted them to feel stronger. And honestly, he wasn’t someone who could express his feelings very well in the first place, surprising as that may seem to us now. But surely, the partner could see what he kept inside, even if they couldn’t see his hatred of ice cream at the first date. Over time, they got to know each other deeply.

We do not need the details of the sickness or the process of dying. We can guess most of it. He probably commented on their endless love for ice cream with remarks like, “I still don’t understand what you love about this so much.” Even when that weakening body, clearly nearing its end, joked, “You complain too much, but after I’m gone, you’ll have to eat ice cream for me too, don’t forget,” he likely brushed it off with a pained smile. Seeing that bitter smile, the partner probably responded, “Alright, alright, I’m joking. I wouldn’t torture you like that. You’re already struggling enough because of me.” And even if he didn’t like hearing that, those words probably comforted him a little.

All of this happened many years ago. Our friend slowly learned how to live with the grief. That was probably not easy at all. He likely felt he had returned to a gray, dull, sad world and at first even thought it was impossible to live with that emptiness. But somehow he managed. He stood up again. Not everything was great, but he could say, “this is part of life,” and continue with his days. Maybe today was just one of those days. He was walking home after a long and exhausting day at work when he suddenly realized he was passing by the same ice cream shop he had visited years ago with that person. He checked the date, remembered that their birthday was coming soon, and decided that since he was already here, he would put aside his hatred of ice cream for one day and eat their favorite flavor, the same one they ate on their early dates. The air was hot, he was tired, and everything seemed perfect for an ice cream. Maybe this small gesture would even lift his mood a bit. The plan was flawless and nothing seemed to stand in the way. And of course, as you already guessed, all those feelings lasted only until the moment the ice cream he bought with such excitement slipped out of his hand before he even tasted it.

And finally, we reach the moment where all the answers lie. The moment that interests us. The ice cream had not even touched his tongue yet when he made a small mistake, miscalculated his movements, and it fell. What he watched fall was not just an ice cream. Maybe he saw everything he had been holding onto in life slip away again. Suddenly, all the realities he had been running from for years hit him like a hard slap. The fragile threads he had tied himself to snapped, and his knees could no longer hold him up. What remained was nothing but the melted streak of ice cream spreading across the asphalt like the colors draining from his life, and the real tears he had not shed in years returning again. Now he hated ice cream more than he ever had. It was almost as if he blamed the ice cream for everything that had happened. Maybe those long-lost tears were having a quiet conversation with him now, maybe he didn’t want to let them go because he feared he would never see them again. And that is the scene we described earlier: a man crying over ice cream.

Of course, all of this is just a theory. I have no idea who that man truly is. To me, the same as to you, he is just a man crying because of his ice cream. Maybe he really cried only because he dropped it. Maybe he cried because he didn’t have the money to buy a new one. Maybe it was because of a story like the one we imagined. We will never know. In the end, it’s not our story to tell. We will simply walk past him and continue saying, “Look at that grown man crying over ice cream.”