My name is Ponyboy and I have a problem. I cry too much.
I know, I know. Crying too much isn’t really a problem, but let me explain myself. I can’t get through an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition without balling my eyes out, in fact within the first three minutes of the show tears are falling upon my t-shirt, creating a monstrous wet spot. I don’t know what it is. Even when I see another person crying, I will start to cry. I don’t know why they are crying, I just follow suit. It’s like when you see a person yawn and then you yawn—the only difference is that yawning is relatively less embarrassing.
I have found that it is also very hard to express my emotions. Instead of telling people why I am upset, I cry. This tends to be very frustrating for the people who show concern for my wellbeing. What usually happens is that when people ask if I am o.k., I cry more. The fact that they care about me enough to ask if I am o.k. makes my tears increase exponentially.
I cry when cutting onions. I don’t just tear up. Enough water pours out of my eyes to turn my whole face black from the mascara I am wearing. I look like a raccoon.
I cry every time I watch the first season finale of The O.C.
I cry when laughing.
I cry while reading (I’m referring to you, Bridge to Terabithia).
I’d like to think that I cry a lot, not because I am emotionally unstable, but because I am full of compassion. I suffer with others, hence, when they cry, I cry. When others show compassion towards me, I cry because I never expect to be loved. And I am o.k. with crying uncontrollably if that makes me a compassionate person. I’d rather be a compassionate person with a red splotchy face, then someone who refuses to acknowledge the feelings of the people surrounding them.
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