Weepy movies

I cried at the end of Terminator 2. Truly. Watching the Terminator voluntarily go into the vat of whatever melted him was really sad. This point highlights that I will probably cry in just about every movie I've ever watched. I cry at the end of romantic comedies, dramas, comic book movies; you name it, I'll cry.

One of the bad crying jags occurred after watching Love Actually which really isn't a sad movie at all, but I cried and cried because of that cute dude who loved Keira Knightly, but she married that other guy. And Emma Thompson's character was so sad, too. Of course, everyone couldn't have a happy ending, but that dude really tore me up. There was just something about him resigning himself to life without her and moving on that touched a chord with me. I wondered if he ever found someone.

I saw the movie with a friend and cried the whole way home. She brought me into my duplex, which I shared with a roommate (Luis), apologized to Luis and bolted. He, of course, couldn't understand how I could go to the movies to see a romantic comedy and come back bawling. We sat on my double papazan while I explained (through sobs) what I thought was so sad. Being incoherent didn't help me clear up the mystery for Luis, but he was a good sport. I ended up falling asleep with my head in his lap, worn out by my tears. He kept patting my head for what must have been about 45 minutes while I slept. When I woke up, I felt really bad that he sat there and patted my head for 45 minutes, but I was glad to know that even if I didn't have a boyfriend, my friends were well and truly awesome.

Tonight I watched The Secret Life of Bees and bawled and bawled when May killed herself. Having gone through a mildish case of depression for about 6 or so months, I was struck by the idea of being so weighed down by sadness, that suicide was a more palatable option. I've never contemplated suicide, and I don't intend to start now, but as I watched the movie, I was struck by her sadness, and it started the waterworks. It reminded me that whatever is going on in my life, whether it's my dad's declining health, my professional stumbles, or personal loneliness, I do not carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and therefore, I have the strength to get through the problem. So, while I was concerned about whether or not I would hyperventilate, I am not concerned about my adaptive abilities and my capacity to deal with life's sadness and worries. It may difficult to deal, but it won't be impossible.