I have freaked many people out by my sudden burst of tears. They shove a Kleenex at me and want me to stop. By the time they get the Kleenex I’m done. Tears spilled out…time to move on. I have gotten out what needs to get out, now let’s have a laugh and move on to the next thing.
For the three years I took Prozac, I barely shed a tear. Not even Charlotte dying in Charlotte’s Web and Wilbur going back to the farm without her could produce a tear. Take me off Prozac and I’m crying when Charlotte spins her first web for Wilbur. Have you ever watched a movie that made you cry and cry and cry and your tears had nothing to do with the movie?
Even when I know a part is coming, like in It’s a Wonderful Life, we all know what Zuzu says when the bell rings and in Love Story we all know Jenny dies, but we still can’t keep the tears from coming. When Holly Golightly at the end of Breakfast At Tiffany’s embraces Fred in the pouring rain and decides it’s okay to be loved for the right reasons and why she’s at it to give that damn Cat a name, I can’t help but lose it, even after seeing it more than a dozen times.
I definitely don’t cry as much as I used to and I cry more now out of happiness than sadness. That really confuses people. Do I still get her a Kleenex when she’s laughing?, they wonder. My superstitious German grandmother used to tell us, That’s good honey, keep crying, then you won’t have to pee as much. Oh, I wish she was right on that one. And how many times have I cried on the toilet?