Cry Baby

I am a crier. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a big sissy or a baby. I don’t let the little things get me down. I don’t whine and pout when I don’t get my way, which happens often in this world. I’m not even a super emotional person. I can watch the evening news and see the horrors that “man” wreaks on innocent victims and I usually just shake my head and wonder at the senseless acts. Maybe it’s because it is man doing it to man that I don’t get that emotional about it. Maybe it’s because I’ve been lucky to not have witnessed any random violence first hand or maybe there is something missing in me, the empathy gene.

But watch something on the news about acts of cruelty to animals and the tears just roll. I get so angry that someone could hurt a creature that trusts and loves us; it’s probably a good thing I don’t get to face the offender. It would not be pretty.

See a sad scene in a movie and I’m a basket case. I cried through the whole movie “War Horse”. I didn’t even want to go, but Mitch did so we went. I love the sappy chick flicks, maybe that’s where I show all of my emotions. It’s not real so it’s okay to let loose and feel the moment. No one is there to mock me for my tears, but Mitch, and he doesn’t count.

Watch a sappy or cute animal video and I can’t even talk after. My voice gets husky and breaks. So what is wrong with me? I cry for puppies and love stories, but not for the horrors of real life. Maybe it’s because there is too much horror today and not enough puppy videos. Or maybe that is the only way to not succumb to the wretchedness of man and sink into a deep depression. Who knows maybe I’m just a heartless woman. I can ask Mitch, but he says he’s afraid of me. I don’t know why.

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