Over the past couple of years, I've encountered many sorrows. Not whining - no, not at all. Such is the life of the average adult human. Relationships die, relatives die, friendships die. Jobs die, money disappears, circumstances change. Love is lost, love is unrequited, nothing works out quite as we'd like. It's all part of the dance.
Yet through all of this, I've been noticeably free of tears. Not completely free of them - I've cried a bit, now and then, but no big breakdown. I've wondered about this, wondered why I didn't, wouldn't, couldn't, just sit down and sob my eyes out. Rending of garments, gnashing of teeth - all seemed appropriate, yet didn't occur. I figure it's because deep down I've been afraid that once I let go, it would all go spiraling down into a place from where I couldn't save myself. And at times, I'm pretty sure that's been a valid fear.
Tonight was the series finale of Medium on CBS. This has been one of my all time favorite TV series since its inception. I don't think there's an episode I haven't seen. I discovered earlier today that tonight was the final episode, and was saddened by it, but after all. It's a god-damned TV show. Not the end of the world.
I just finished crying my eyes out. Sobbing. Ugly cry. I already have a cold - now I can't breathe at all. And this wailing started while there was still ten minutes left of the show.
Perhaps it's because I have admired (even though I know it's just a TV program) Allison and Joe DuBois's relationship and wished it was possible to have that sort of love. The sort of love that transcends the passing of years, the bearing of children, the everyday annoyances of life. I've wondered if it was truly possible to keep a relationship alive for years and still have that spark, that lust.
Their middle kid? Bridgette? I've been in love with her for years. Known that if I could have been guaranteed a child such as her, I would have given birth. There have been few children who have inspired that sort of feeling.
So there you have it. How I spent my Friday evening. Maybe this is for the best. Perhaps I need to cry more often, and more vigorously. Gourd knows there are things that make me want to sit down and cry like a little bitch, and maybe it's not healthy to hold that in.