As I was watching the first trade center collapse on Sept 11 in the morning right after waking up. Just thinking of the people waters my eyes right now.
One and a half years ago, the day after our wedding. My wife and I visited my mothers grave and the tears came. I would have loved them to know one-another.
Sorry, carry on.
About a month ago, when my dog died after having her for 15 and a half years.
Letsee, I cry every morning I wake up and realize how mediocre and lonely I am. My nights are usually composed of me sitting on the edge of my bed for about 30 minutes or so with a gun in my mouth until I fitfully cry myself to sleep. Oh well, at least no one has cut off my penis and thrown it out the window of a moving vehicle.
3 days, for the first time in a month I have gone that long w/o crying. I feel good. {{everyone who feels bad}}
Maple Syrup, if you’re not joking (some people have a sick sense of humor) please get some counselling. I know it’s hard to talk about when you’re in the throes of depression… As many times as I’ve been depressed, I’ve never tried to deep-throat a pistol barrel. I can only imagine how anguished you feel.
Last time…right now. Today is my father’s birthday. He passed away August 27th of this year, and I miss him something fierce!!! Happy Birthday Dad. I will always appreciate everything you did for me and will try to make myself worthy of the pride you had for me. Goodbye 
Last night. A little boy in my building fell from some height at his grandparents’ farm, and died. The idea of a little five year old falling to his death is heartbreaking enough, but knowing that his parents’ battled infertility for years before spending the last of their expendable savings to adopt him made it even worse. They wanted to have a child so desperately, (a feeling I know better than I’d like to) and they loved and doted on him so very much, it is devastating to imagine how they’re feeling right now.
Little kids just shouldn’t die. Beautiful little boys named Jacob, with big blue eyes and sandy hair and a puppy named Tiger ought not slip and fall and break their necks.
Now I’m crying again.
Aw. Why?
Well, yes, my eyes also welled up a bit at that one part in Monsters Inc. when I saw it on Sunday.
But the last time I actually cried was last Thursday. I was super-stressed-out from school, jobs, and other stuff, and I just kinda broke down after a couple of things pushed me a little too far. Things are a lot better, now, though…lots of stuff done, and generally feeling a whole lot better.
My eyes watered a little just a few minutes ago, from thinking about my Dad’s Alzheimers. I cry all the fucking time lately, though not the sobbing type of crying. That happens every few weeks when things seem to build to a breaking point.
Roughly seven years ago. I got a D on a ridiculously insignificant homework assignment.
Last time I got misty–January 14 of this year. Looking at my father’s face for the last time before they closed to coffin. I was thinking of tangerines (for some reason, he loved 'em. Ick), and how weird he looked with his glasses off. I remember when he ripped his glasses off to dive into my grandfather’s pool to save me. He never really set out to, but he taught me all of the things I’ve needed to know about life indirectly. Good people sometimes make bad decisions. Don’t hate anyone, because you may later on feel the exact same way they did when you hated them. Lay off the high curve. If you’re going to drink and drive, get hammered, because there’s no use going to jail for a little buzz. You can’t control your emotions. You love who you love, and nothing can change that. Sometimes the best thing you can do is offer your life for someone (he was a firefighter…NYC’s missing REALLY got me). That sometimes it’s better just to sit and listen, and keep your mouth shut. That, no matter how bad your day has been, there’s something about someone else’s arms around you that makes everything else just…not matter. Never ask a bunch of drunken bikers what the fuck they’re looking at. And the best way to show someone you care is to drive 'em completely batshit.
[sub]Damn…getting a little misty now. Think I’m going to go have a tangarine.[/sub]
Never, I don’t cry. Even if I want to.
I was going to say earlier this evening when I tried to sing “Sunrise, Sunset” along with a TV show, with my 21 month old son in my arms. After reading this, I must amend that to crying at this moment. I want to say something profound, but nothing really comes to mind. So terribly sorry for the grief that they are suffering at this time.
When I read this story about Rick Rescorla, who saved a few thousand people’s lives on 9/11.
The day the music died!
Jeez, I can’t believe I got to that first.
Seriously though I cried a little when I saw my grandmothers corpse for the first time. She had just died in my arms and I went to the hospital and she was cold.
I don’t get to IMHO very often. Saw this thread and wanted to contribute.
I teared up just about an hour ago, watching Noggin. Ernie was singing “I Don’t Want to Live on the Moon”, and it tore my heart out.
First, because Ernie’s voice, singing, is just so poignant. “I’d like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar/Go back in time and meet a di-i-no-saur…” You’d just have to hear it to know what I mean.
Second, knowing that it’s all Henson, and regretting that someone who had so much more to do, never will. Maybe I take his death too seriously, but it’s somewhat like what Superdude said about his dad: don’t play. Henson was a gentle, creative, giving person who never should have died young, and would not have if he’d taken his doctor’s advice seriously. Because of him, I don’t treat medical problems lightly, and I don’t let people around me do so either.
And third, because of the lyrics. “Though I’d like to look down on the earth from above/I would miss all the places and people I love…So if I could visit the moon/I would dance on a moonbeam and then/I would make a wish on a star/And I’d wish I was home once again…”
As for the last time I cried hard…I don’t want to discuss it.
About half an hour ago.
I found out that a friend of mine has cancer again. She lost a breast a few years ago and now its fucking back.
They aren’t giving her much longer.
Happy Fucking Thanksgiving.
So sorry to hear that, JRT.
The last time I cried was last Wednesday at a meeting with my supervisor about my being harrassed at work.
I should’ve felt angry, not victimized. I’m such a wuss.