The only tear I’ve ever shed was a single tear, shed over the slain body of my woman, my face a tortured (or constipated) mask of raging anguish, in the moments before I cinched a headband tight with a manly grunt and spent fifteen minutes strapping various weapons to my body.
There might have been one or two other such extreme circumstances.
It certainly wasn’t a couple nights ago, watching Lilo & Stich after finally getting round to renting it, at the point where Stitch explains calmly “this is my family. It is small, and broken. But still good. Yeah, still good.”
In addition, it also wasn’t a few days prior to that during reading large parts of the final third of Connie Willis’s Doomsday Book. It’s not like I had to put the book down for several minutes as a chapter-closing line of “‘Oh, Rosemund,’ she said” hit like a tolling bell–I’m too gruff for that kind of thing.
All the time. I’m a big piece of jelly. Films, books, conversations, looking at the sleeping form of Pricegal, thinking about good times we’ve had in the past… anything can break me these days. I guess I’m a little sissy.
last night. my husband and i were talking about Promise, my darling horse for about 25 years. i had to have him put down on April 1. (God has a really twisted sense of humor where i’m concerned.) i finally said out loud what has been torturing ever since the event.
Promise had severe breathing problems for many years, starting with an asthma-like condition called heaves. about 2 years ago he was finally diagnosed as having a slow-growing tumor in one sinus cavity. the vet that diagnosed it gave me a big long song and dance about how he was too old for such an invasive surgery to remove it, it was close to a major blood vessel, they’d have to open up the side of his head, yaddayaddayadda. (may the lazy bastard rot in hell.)
fast forward to August last year. Promise is having a very hard time, between the tumor and the heat. i’m frantically searching for alternate means of treatment, like maybe laser surgery. i take him up to Morven Park (aka Marion DuPont Equine Center). the vets there examine him, reach same diagnosis, then say “So when would you like to schedule surgery? We do these about twice a month, on average.” :eek: :eek: :eek: :mad: :mad: :mad:
(moral: animal or human, GET A SECOND OPINION!)
well, i’ll spare the long drawn-out rest of the story. the tumor was removed, but other complications showed up. the heat still caused attacks of impaired breathing. i hoped that if he could make it through the winter, the complication might possibly have a chance to resolve itself. on April 1, an unseasonably warm day, i had to face that the extra time had brought no improvement when he collapsed again. the vet was called, with the inevitable result.
but the part that remains like a knife in my heart is, i know he hadn’t fully surrendered to Death yet. by the time the vets finally arrived, he had regained enough strength to go from flat-out on the ground to normal laying-down position. given time, he might even have fought his way back onto his feet again. but even so, it would only have been a successful minor skirmish in a losing war. i couldn’t stand to see him suffer through this same situation repeatedly, until it finally broke his will to live or killed him outright.
I have to confess, I cry all the time. Sad or touching stories, movies, etc. I teared up when I found that the people reporting to me went to my boss to tell him I’m the best boss they ever had (and that the company should do its best to keep me.) Heck, I that one tears me up now…
Before that, Mothers Day. Why? Long day, traveling, stop to eat, and the restaurant it packed. And it dawns on us that it’s Mother’s Day. I hate Mother’s Day, because I’ll never be one.
Late last night (when everyone else was asleep) I watched my Armaggeddon DVD. The part where Bruce was saying goodbye to Liv Tyler over the NASA monitor always gets me. Not very many movies show that kinda of loving relationship between father and daughter. I love that part.
Um…a little while ago, while reading a fanfic. Probably sounds pretty dumb, but it’s the truth. (The fic is on fanfiction.net, and is called Paper Cranes. It’s by Karin-sama) I cry fairly often while reading or watching something depressing, and am prone to have little breakdowns when I’m having a really bad day…
I cry all the freaking time. When I’m happy, sad, neutral, whatever. Last time I cried was last night when I looked at that website with pictures of Jacqui Saburrido.
March 30th. Spring Break was ending, and my girlfriend came to New York (instead of going home) to stay with me - I’m not at school for the Spring, I’m doing an internship. For 10 days, I doubt we were ever more than five feet away from each other. We went to concerts, plays, a Daily Show taping… just everything we could cram into a week and a half. It was really amazing.
But of course, at the end, she had to go back to school, and we knew we wouldn’t see each other until June at the earliest. Being apart for three weeks over winter break was tough enough. But we’d been dating for five months (the 30th was actually our anniversary), and now we were going to be apart for three months. We were alternating between making out and crying in the airport.
It was really rough. I probably would’ve spent all day crying if I hadn’t had another concert that night. Fortunately, she made plans to come back here before her tests even end - she’s getting in on June 5, so less than 3 weeks now. We’re both very excited.
