I sighed and wiped my eyes again. So much for the mascara I actually bothered to put on this morning. My eyes were beginning to feel raw from wiping the tears away but I knew if I didn’t keep wiping, there would be black streaks down my face.
And that’s not actually something I wanted to deal with.
I tried to get myself to stop. Crying never does any good. It results in headaches and blood shot eyes. Plus my reasoning was stupid.
After all, it was just a TV show.
“It wasn’t real,” you told me.
Still as I watched it, the sadness, despair, brokenness of the characters became my own. Not many people understand it. In fact, I’m not sure anyone I know gets as attached to the people in books and movies and tv shows as I do.
It’s a blessing and a curse.
No, I thought. No, no, no, no! What’s happening?!
Tears streamed down my face. Sobs ripped their way out of me. The scene in front of me was devastating. What made it worse is that the disaster I was watching had actually happened in real life. Maybe not with these people. Maybe this certain story had never existed, but this, these last five minutes of this movie, this had been real.
I cried out as the screen went black.
There’s only so much you can cry over something fictional before you realize you need to stop.
I needed to stop. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Those horrible moments replayed in my head and a fresh wave of sadness enveloped me.
You could make me stop.
I got on skype and realized you were on to. I called you but I could not see or hear you. You could hear me. You could hear me crying.
You typed out short responses to me as you tried to get your microphone to work.
“My mic doesn’t work”
“Let me see if I can see enough”
Finally, you gave up with the computer. You picked up your phone and called me, sounding hurried, trying to figure out what had upset me this much. When I finally formed the words to tell you what was wrong, relief filled your voice.
“It’s just a movie.” You reminded me, trying not to laugh, “Melissa, everyone dies.”
I know that everyone dies. I know. He never thought I realized that. He thought I needed to come more to terms with it. He didn’t think I knew how to think logically.
“I know everyone dies. That doesn’t mean I like it.”
I know everyone dies. And I know if they’ve excepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior, they live again in the place He has prepared for us.
I know everyone dies.
That doesn’t mean I like it.