Except anything or everything that any sane and rational person would ever bother to burst into tears about. I even watched Beaches with Bette Middler the other day and shed nary a tear. I actually thought it was a little lame, although one time when I was in the seventh grade I cried for nearly four hours after watching Braveheart, a time I spent lying on my bed and asking God why, oh why, couldn't William Wallace have gone on?
I've been watching Grey's Anatomy with SuperNan of late, and its a series I can't seem to pull myself away from. I love it with every morsel of my being, excepting of course, those morsels devoted to loving beer and laughing at my cat. Those morsels are on special reserve and I shall never devote them to anything but those two tasks.
It was the finale of the second season tonight, and when the Chief was dancing with his niece and she told him with glee that her boyfriend loves her (!) she said "Everyon deserves that once, Uncle Richard."
And my heart stopped for a moment and I thought to myself, Dear Lord: What if everyone does deserve that once? But what if because we deserve it once, we only get it once? What if we all only ever get to be in love once in our lives and I already used up that chance when I was fourteen, and fell in love with that Dude my mother still thinks I should marry? And we broke up when I was seventeen, and ohmyword, that was six years ago? And now I have a potential, what? Seventy more years to live? I HAVE SEVENTY MORE YEARS TO LIVE AND I ALREADY USED UP MY CHANCE TO LOVE SOMEONE?
And then, of course, the episode went on and Denny had to die and Merideth did it with McDreamy one more time in an exam room, and then Christina went in and took Burke by the hand -- YES, she took him by the hand, and if that is not the ultimate expression of one's undying love THEN I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT IS -- and, of course, Izzie quit because really, now she has no Denny and why would she bother to go on?
And it was at this point that I realized, Hey, you know? Maybe it's time to realize that taking advice from sappy TV shows full of drama and sex with George and choosing McDreamy over McSteamy and the dog that just had to die of bone cancer MIGHT NOT BE THE BEST IDEA.
And then I grabbed another beer and heaved a sigh of relief because Damn, seventy years is a lot more to live, and even if they are not years filled with loving some guy who will inevitably leave his underpants on my bedroom floor, they are not years that I want filled with advice fram sappy TV.