Good evening. I'm writing this post to A) avoid working on our wedding website and B) avoid murdering the dog in the apartment below me that won't stop barking and APPARENTLY doesn't have owners.
I was never a cryer. It actually makes me extremely uncomfortable. When we were younger, my family would watch It's A Wonderful Life every Christmas and--despite the fact that it was black and white and therefore completely unrelatable to modern life, as far as I could tell--my mom cried every time. And my sister and I made fun of her as I shifted awkwardly in my seat and went to the kitchen to get more chips and queso. Obviously.
My mom cries ALL THE TIME. Simon Birch? Tears. A cousin's wedding? Sobs. The episodes of American Idol when they go back to the contestants home towns and interview parents? A freaking wreck. So you'd think after dealing with her insanity for 21 years I'd stop feeling so nervous and awkward around those little droplets falling from eyeballs...but you'd be wrong.
I had never cried until 2007 (<- sort of but not totally a lie). I was a freaking rock. Those Sarah Mclachlan dying animal commercials couldn't touch me. Titanic? Not a chance. I was HEARTLESS, and honestly, it was easier. No emotion, no problems (<- sort of but not totally a lie).
Alas, where did it go wrong? I will tell you.
Jeff is where it went wrong.
We met in 2006 and our dating life consisted of mostly renting movies or going to the movie theater because, well, I was 16 and not exactly at the legal drinking age so that's what there was to do. My 21-year-old boyfriend loved every minute of his sobriety (<- mostly a lie). That's what you get for robbing the cradle, ya cougar. Sorry, not sorry.
Anyway, Jeff hated that I didn't cry because, like my mother, he was much more of a softy. We watched Armaggedon and I called the ending within the first 10 minutes. Next was 8 Seconds and at the end I was like, Bummer, and Jeff almost stroked out.
"HOW DO YOU NOT CRY DURING 8 SECONDS!?" he asked.
"HAVE YOU NO SOUL!?" he asked.
**dusts off shoulders**
At this point he was sufficiently pissed and decided he would break me. He wanted nothing more than to see me curled in the fetal position, weeping uncontrollably.
So, he rented Click.
**NOTE THAT EVERYTHING AFTER THIS IS A SPOILER IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN CLICK, SO STOP READING.**
Click was great at first. And then it just started getting awful. AWFUL. This guy had fastforwarded his whole life and his kids hated him and his smoking hot wife left him and got remarried and IT WAS AWFUL.
And then he died.
He just DIED you guys. He is laying there, in the middle of the street in the pouring rain, and he is professing his love to his ex-wife who is a wreck seeing her ex-husband die, and he DIES.
This was too much for me. This movie ripped out my heart and stomped on it and made me want to do the crying-in-the-fetal-position thing.
AND THEN HE WOKE UP AND IT WAS ALL A DREAM AND HE GOT HIS WHOLE LIFE BACK.
I couldn't stop crying. Obviously.
SO MANY EMOTIONS.
I haven't been the same since. I'm serious. Tonight I picked up a pizza and some Angry Orchard and decided to watch Dawson's Creek. I got so excited about this perfect night that I welled up.
I WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.
Thanks a lot, Jeff.