I’m a Woman…

ImageI saw The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the first time in a completely trashed old theater in Idaho Falls.  I totally loved it, in fact it’s probably one of my favorite movies of all time.  I loved the way the film fused sci-fi elements with a truly touching love story and a whole lotta laughs.  I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would hit me on an emotional level.  There were several points during the flick where I felt tears welling up in my eyes.  I remember walking out of the the theater, turning to my buddy Erik, and dropping the bomb.  “Dude”, I admitted.  “I cried during that movie.  I am a WOMAN.”

Crying at movies wasn’t something that happened much to me at that point in my life.  Sure, I cried at the end of Iron Giant, but that movie brought back memories of my dead little brother with its themes of mortality and the nature of the soul.  But that was it back then.  I just didn’t get emotionally manipulated by entertainment.  I was a rock.  I was a frakking island.

These day, however, the record’s been flipped.  I get weepy at just about anything.  Movies.  Sitcoms.  Songs that remind me of the days when I wasn’t quite such a waste of potential.  I’m waiting for the day when I shed tears over a feminine hygiene commercial.  That’s when I’ll you that it’s everlastingly to late to get my edge back.

One of my friends has seen me get weepy in front of her.  I’m sure that goes over super awesome.  There’s nothing more sexy or masculine than breaking into tears while stumble over your words while attempting to express your appreciation for someone.  I should’ve tried this move much, much earlier.  I’d be up to my earlobes in diaper rash, SUVs, and My Little Pony by now.

What really makes me wonder is the fact that real live humans can give me these big, emotional speeches, tell me to hold on, that there’s still hope, and that everything will be alright, and I can’t even be bothered.  But an emotional episode of How I Met Your Mother can leave me in big-ass streams of tears and snot.  I don’t even relate that strongly to Ted Mosby.  All he’s ever wanted is to find his soulmate and get married.  I don’t really believe in the concept of soulmates, and I have no idea whether I want to get married or not.  But whenever Ted decides to persevere in his search for love, or whenever Lily dispenses life lessons, I feel myself tear up almost without fail.  50/50 makes me a little misty-eyed every time I see it (I guess friendship means a lot to me or… something…).  Sometimes I wonder how I could be weak-minded enough to allow my feelings to be so easily manipulated by the media.  Or maybe I’m just brave enough to admit it.  Who knows for sure?

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