Tears are the shit.

‘The Time Traveler’s Wife’ is my favourite book.

Which is saying a lot, because I read a lot of books.  Well, not anymore because I parent until my eyes are burning and then I sleep restlessly and try again, but I used to read.  It’s also saying a lot because I hate crying.

I really, really hate crying.  I will do pretty much anything to avoid crying.  If I’m reading a book and it starts to feel like I might cry, I stop reading it.  If it’s a TV show, I change the channel.  If it’s a movie, I go to the washroom and stay there for like half an hour until I feel like it’s safe to return.  For real.

The first movie I saw in theatres was The Lion King.  We were waiting in line outside the theatre.  For whatever reason, my sister was mad at me.  I’m the baby sister; I don’t know why she was mad, but I’m pretty sure I deserved it.  I was so excited to see a movie in the theatre, until my sister turned to me and said: “You know the dad dies, right?”

Hysterical.  I.  Was.  Hysterical.  My mom spent the majority of the movie in the lobby with me, trying to calm me down.  A few years later we watched it in school and I had to sit in an empty classroom by myself because I couldn’t handle it.  I was probably in my 20s before I actually saw the entire thing start to finish.

Seriously.  I hate to cry.  I will do whatever I can to avoid it.

Emotions are brutal.  I’ve started having them again.  And really, some days… I could definitely do without them.

But for some reason I keep reading ‘The Time Traveler’s Wife.’  I’ve honestly read it probably six times at least.  Apparently I just like torture.

 

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