I almost cried this morning on my way home from the school run. And for a minute I was ashamed of it.
It’s getting quite dark outside now that it’s November and we live close to the Arctic Circle. Kids, late for school, come running out into the street out of nowhere.
This symbiosis of cars and kids in the dark got me thinking how close we are to death all the time. I thought about how tragic it would be if there was an accident on that route. An image of people bringing flowers to where an accident took place. Crying parents and relatives. And this scene made me well up inside. The song If the world was ending started playing at the same time, which didn’t help. I’m a sucker for drama.
OK Joe, but why the crying?
I don’t know where the sensitivity comes from, but it’s always been there. Hallmark movies are made for people like me. My wife makes fun, lovingly, when I cry watching sappy movies. I’m always the only one that cries by the way, and I live with three women. I guess there’s a stereotype about the sexes we can throw away there.
What about the big stuff
Monumental life changes move me as well, like the birth of my children, but it’s different. The sensitivity I’m trying to put my finger on here is an intrinsic one. There needs to be a combination of an external trigger and a very deep, internal reaction.
The cheesy stuff breaks me
Imagine a scene in a movie. A couple that split up after high school meets again, years later. They’ve both had a series of relationships that didn’t last. The plotline weaves their lives together, and finally, they realize at the end their love for one another.
Works. Every. Time.
Sleepless in Seattle plays a variation of this theme, and I’ve never watched that movie with dry eyes.
Does it matter?
Perhaps there is an explanation of why I’m more sensitive in this way than many people. Maybe they even have therapy for people like me.
Because sometimes it’s hard to cry over something that most people find silly. But you know, I think I’m beginning to come to terms with it.
I’m a 6’3″ middle-aged man, and I cry over Hallmark movies, puppy videos, and acts of kindness. And what I guess I’m saying is, that I’m OK with that.