On Crying at Movies

I’d thought that crying at movies was overly emotional, a transparent grasp for attention, reserved for people like (gasp) my mom.

But in the onslaught of movies I’ve thrown myself into the past few weeks in project Expand My Worldview and Become More Cultured And Interesting, I’ve cried at every single one.


I’ve realized I’ve grown so much this year in ways that I can’t quite describe, or yet understand fully. I’m much more in touch with my emotions, with the emotions of others. I’m much more deliberate, present, and thoughtful about life. I’m much more considerate of others. I have more questions than before, because I’ve started questioning more. I’ve started caring.

And with these new developments come tremendous growth: emotionally, intellectually. I understand the emotions that are told in movies so much more – I empathize, I cry, I laugh, I have felt these things that the characters are going through. I hear the Schumann B-flat Major Sonata and I am swept away by the beauty of the melody. I hug JKm and I know the feeling of wanting to be physically closer than is physically possible.


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