Tears for Years

I cry. For a fortysomething year old man, I cry a lot.

And it's not about real stuff. I mean not about things like a broken heart, or paths not taken, or other self pity shit. Stupid stuff makes me cry.

I wonder if that's expected of someone like me or not; the first time people meet me, do they think, 'Oh, he seems like a crier?' I don't think so, but I also think I look a lot better than I actually do, so my self-image may be slightly skewed. (I have half-heartedly attempted online dating, and twice when we got to the point of exchanging real photos, not just the ones in the best lighting or the professionally done ones, I never heard from them again. Of course they were both in their early 30's, so maybe the reality of dating someone over forty for them didn't match the fantasy. I probably couldn't have really followed up on it anyway. Incidentally, I'm not too worried about it: the relationships I have and had are decidedly with guys that are way off the Richter scale attractive, so I assume that, while they undershot, I have to be close. The rule is that the people you date are always plus or minus two from where you are on the attractiveness scale. Husbands and wives don't count; love throws the rules out the window. Whatever love is. Point being that Guy Lepore, if that's your real name, I'm not offended. You're very cute and I think you're closer to 25 than 30 anyway, so a conversation about skateboards and Justin Bieber would have been imminent, and I know nothing about either. Conversely, you probably have no idea what the president has and hasn't done as part of his campaign promises, let alone who the president is. Just saying I'm not bitter.)

I will get choked up at the movies. Every movie. I mean almost every single movie. 'Avatar' was not a good movie - it had a predictable a trite story line with an ending to match. But the effects were so overwhelming I cried. (Not every movie- I saw one Tyler Perry movie in my life, and the entire theater cried except me. It was an awful movie with a story line that seemed passable only because the acting was so much worse than the script. And what the fuck was Gladys Knight doing in that piece of shit movie? Just because you're a black celebrity does not mean you have to do a Tyler Perry movie. She should be ashamed. sidenote: my ex, the one appearing in previous posts, needed a Kleenex throughout that movie. That should have been a sign.)

I will bawl recounting the storyline of a particularly moving film. I can't even say the title "In America" without getting a lump in my throat. Or "Lion in Winter." Not that the story is so touching, but that Katharine Hepburn is so good in that movie, I am humbled by her existence. My own humility makes me cry.

Dogs make me cry. I met a Bernese Mountain dog yesterday, Lily, that was so beautiful and amiable and trusting and bouncy and monstrous pulling her mistress around that my eyes welled in awe and jealousy, due to Lily doting on that lady being pulled around and not on me. The stories of Steve (the dog that previously appeared in the upper left corner-I lost the pic!) being such a monster get my eyes watery. Steve has now taken to nipping at his real owner's calves while his dinner is being prepared. And Steve can't help himself; his excitement is so massive that he can't contain it within himself. His honesty and reckless abandon is tear-forming.

Animal abusers will bring a tear. Ashley Yeater made the news because she gave up her dog rather than her boyfriend, who was convicted of throwing her yorkie down so hard that he broke six ribs and lost an eye. Ashley said, "Let's keep things in perspective: it's only a dog." Ashley makes me cry.

Forgetting someone's birthday will make me cry, apparently. It makes me feel so selfish and egocentric, which I don't think I am, that I cry at myself.

Ricardo Antonio Varela Peralta makes me cry if think about him too much. He's not supposed to not be here, and we weren't together long enough.

But I laugh alot, too, just in case you're worried that I'm chronic. But mostly at myself. Like at how much I cry.