I feel like I’m obligated to write an Olympic-themed blog post as part of some unspoken blogger pact which proves my patriotism. While I am patriotic, this post is only vaguely related to the Olympics. Rather, it is about the olympics that are my emotions.
It’s not that I cry a lot. It’s just that a lot of things easily make me cry. Underneath my hardened, sarcastic exterior, lies a soft, sensitive girl. There is just so much beauty, kindness and heartache in the world. I can’t help but empathize.
Or fictional characters.
Or my dog.
It’s true. I love my dog so much, it makes me cry sometimes.
I’ve teared up almost every night since the olympics started. How am I supposed to control myself when I see faces overjoyed at winning gold? I cried more than Missy Franklin did when she won a gold medal for swimming. I cried when the Fab Five won gold in gymnastics. I also cried when Jordyn Weiber didn’t make it to the All-Around.
I cry during books, movies and TV shows. I just bawled during the episode of Mad Men when Kennedy is assassinated. I also cried the other day while watching Merlin, but now I can’t remember why.
I should probably start wearing waterproof mascara, because who knows when I will encounter an emotional moment?
I go to church and cry during baptisms. And Graduation Sunday. And when the children sing.
I went to work one day and my boss shared a touching story about an old man and his recently-deceased sister, and I immediately began tearing up.
I cry when other people cry.
Ok, so maybe I do cry a lot. But that’s not a bad thing, right? My mother described it as a “gift.” So really, I’m just more gifted than everyone else.
Yea. We’ll go with that.
Les chiens aboient, la caravane passe,