Backstory: I have an ex-boyfriend, who I dated for three years, lived with for two. He’s still my best friend, and I’m his, but we broke up due to distance (we moved apart for school) and a bunch of weird problems. He was still in love with me for a long time, and I felt I did not love him “that way”. Then, about a year later, I realised I did. He told me now that he loves me but is not in love with me, but it might happen again in the future. Which is what I had told him when we first broke up.
I’ve been afraid lately that he’s moving on in life without me and will soon cease to be even my friend.
I went to visit him on spring break, last week (yes I know it’s not spring, but I don’t choose when they place our breaks!). I wanted to get some of my stuff from boxes that were in his basement from when we lived together.
When I opened that box and saw the pots and pans and dishes we used to have when we lived together I literally collapsed to the floor in a crying heap. I remembered how we lived together, and how happy I was then, and that I want nothing more than to do it again. And he doesn’t want this, he doesn’t love me, and it stabs me from inside to see reminders of a time when he’d do anything for me.
I’m currently crying now just from typing this. Oh good. (Sorry for being a bummer.)
Reading your stories has been moving to me. Sometimes we keep things so pent up.
On Thursday night I wrote about my granddaughter’s confirmation and wrote this:
At that time I did not know the rest of the story. Across town at my first husband’s home, another sacrament was taking place – what used to be called the Last Rites. His step-daughter, in her early thirties, died of cancer.
Our families have remained friends all of these years and I grieve for the lost young woman, her mother and my former husband.
I will give the mother the wrap-around cover of the program that I was holding in my hand when she lost her child. It is dark except for an accending white dove bathed in sunlight and the words Be filled with the Spirit.
I don’t know how many times I’ve seen the musical 1776, both on stage and the video, but every single time John and Abigail sing “Till Then”, I lose it. To me, it’s the ultimate love song: Till then, till then, I am, as I ever was, and ever shall be, yours…
Ditto. I haven’t cried at the funeral of relatives, but the most ridiculous, meaningless things make me tear up. The sun setting over water, certain good news stories and television shows can only make me cry.
I even teared up in my office when I read that a certain area in my state was listed by the World Heritage Trust. It didn’t even mean anything to me!
Actually I thought that was a pretty effective scene.
Scenes in movies and TV shows featuring children definitely affect you differently once you have kids yourself. The kid in the scene you mentioned reminded both my wife and I of our own son even though the resemblance isn’t very strong from what I remember.
There’s one movie that makes me cry in the same spot, every time I watch it. It always has, ever since I was a kid. It’s probably not what you’d expect: The Glenn Miller Story. He’s been slaving away with failing dance bands, and none of the club owners want him to try out his new arrangements on the audiences. But he’s got this sound in his head, he just needs to find it. Then in rehearsal, they’re playing “Moonlight Serenade”, and just as the trumpeter stands up to solo, he bumps his trumpet into the stand and splits his lip. So Glenn stays up all night rearranging the song for clarinet lead with sax harmonies. The moment the clarinet comes in playing the melody as we all know it, and you realize that this is the sound he was looking for, it breaks me up. Every time. Glenn Miller rocks.
Interestingly, reading some of the stories on this thread made me more emotional than I expected they would.
In particular, iampunha’s mention of Toys R Us caused me to have a wistful moment about my childhood. I miss the carefree days when my parents used to take us to Toys R Us.
enipla’s anecdote about how no one will ever sleep on Alpine’s bed again caused me to tear up. I have a dog, so stories about other people’s pet losses really hit home.
emekthian: I had the same reaction to that episode of Futurama. But it’s “Luck of the Fryrish” not “fryfish” (like “Irish”, get it?)
Zoe: Hey, I’m right with you. A good performance of “Ode to Joy” can bring anyone to tears.
I haven’t really broken down and cried at any particularly strange moments. The closest example would probably be when I saw the movie “Finding Nemo.” I actually started crying. The funny thing is, it wasn’t at the end of the movie, it was at the very beginning scene.
I think I can blame part of it on hormones, but I found myself weeping openly during the season finale of The Osbournes last year, when
[spoiler] it seemed as though Jack had accidentally killed Sharon’s beloved dog, Minnie. Although it was all a set-up, Sharon’s “reaction” and Ozzy’s look of being overwhelmed just hit me. I think it was because the pranked event worked on the family in so many ways - Sharon losing her dog, Ozzy having to tell her, Jack having to deal with what he’d done and running away…
Although it’s fairly petulant of me, I stopped watching the show. I cried because I thought it had really happened to them and felt bad that one of the good things in their rather fucked-up family life had been taken away. To learn that they had made a big prank out of it made me feel (however irrationally) that some very serious emotions of mine had been toyed with. [/spoiler]
When I first worked at McDonald’s, elderly people who came in alone and bought a small ice cream cone with change carefully counted out… oh, God, I’m crying now. As they say in “A Tree Grows In Brookyln,” growing old is not a tragedy. Neither do I think that there is something pathetic or lonely about a person buying themself ice cream. But something about it gets me every time.
I found this happening to me today. My wife and I were enjoying a quiet afternoon together and found time to watch a DVD together. Cats. I was feeling fine, enjoying the music, the costumes, the set. Then Pow! The song “Memories” begins. I love the song, but in this instance it hit me like a ton of bricks. I started choking up, then the tears started welling. I was a little surprised. I tryed to stifle the emotions but I guess I passed the point of no return. I let it go.
Fortunately I have a wife who actually enjoys, and is very supportive when this happens to me. In my normal day to day activity I don’t show very much emotion. I come off as a very carefree, happy go lucky sort. I have a hard time expressing real heartfelt emotion. I guess I can run, but I can’t hide. After these episodes I feel very much renewed and restored. This only happens perhaps once every three or four months, but when it comes on, it can be a doozy. It’s almost as if I store up these feeling for so long and then the dam bursts.
I can’t imagine how terrible it could be if I was with someone who either was uncomfortable or embarrassed when this happens. I wish everyone had a partner as supportive as I have.
Most recently I’ve been tearing up because my best friend and aren’t really friends anymore. There was an incident around 4 months ago, and we stopped hanging out because of it, but talked daily. Then this past Wednesday she told me she knew about (I hadn’t known for sure if she did) and we haven’t talked since. I found out the only reason she had talked to me at all since then was just so she could get a ride to and from school, but this past Thursday she got a car and doesn’t need a ride anymoe. When I think about the whole thing I start to cry. I feel like a horrible person for the thing 4 months ago, I feel stupid for not realizing she knew, I feel a little upset about being used, and I feel sad because not only did I lose my best friend in the world, but all of my other friends were friends with her, so I lost them too. That Wednesday night I had a Psych class to go to, and sitting there my mind wandered to the whole thing and just thinking about it I was tearing up in class.
This past Friday, I was going through some old photos, “purging.” I was almost through a box of my late sister’s, when I ran across a picture of my son and her fishing. He was only about 3 at the time, and she has been gone since he was 4, about 15 years. Choked me up for some reason, when all the rest had not. I still miss her.
I found myself crying during the finale of Sex and the City, which I totally didn’t expect.
Once, in an interview, I was asked who I most admired. At the time, it was a teacher I had. Unfortunately, she was very sick at that point and it was uncertain if she was coming back to work or not. She’d been a very good friend to me. I damn near started crying in the interview as I talked about her. I kept it under control, but the interview guy noticed and remarked on it. And I had to explain. Without crying. That was horrible.
In January of 1989 my new husband and I entered the Humane Society. We left with a six week old German Shephard/Great Dane mix male puppy. Hubby had never had a dog before and Larry was both “son” and man’s-best-friend to us. For twelve years we loved this dog in a way no words can describe.
One week shy of his 12th birthday, on December 22nd, he suffered what the vet believes to be a seizure of some sort that had a detramental effect on him. On Thursday, December 23rd I asked the vet to come to our house. Larry was put to rest in our arms, in his own home, and on his own bed.
On the 24th I was driving in to work (it was only a 1/2 day before Christmas break) bawling like a baby, hoping I could make it through the day.
Just last week I’d heard a song on the radio that brought it all back and I had to pull over. I must have heard this song on that day, Dec 24th, three years ago. It’s the only explanation for feeling such a loss at a song.
Three years have passed and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him We miss him terribly.
