coming2atvnearu wrote:
The one time I can remember getting close to weepy eyed during a movie was 'I Am Sam' when they broke out some of the Beatles songs. i'm not quite sure how that concept fit into the movie, but so be it. Anyways, they started singing Golden Slumbers which is part of the Beatles medley. My dad used to sing that to me as I was going to bed and for some reason I just got a little teary.
I always get teary when I hear Golden Slumbers. It is so simple, yet so moving. And, I can't quite put my finger on why. I also get that way every time I see Terms of Endearment. I cry like a little baby at the end. So much so, that my daughter is embarassed for me. Ah, sometimes it is good to cry.
Trick wrote:
But on the face of it I'm a normal person, just like everyone out there looks like a normal person. But I bet almost everyone out there can identify with at least one secret up on that page, and no one ever realises because it never feels that way. We can feel so alone and fearful, even guilty sometimes that we should feel this way if we consider ourselves better off than others. The only advice I can give is to try and be strong, try and smile to people you see, give hugs to those you know and love and tell those you love that you love them more often than you do. A lot of my things up there have got much better as I've gotten older, a whole load of self assurance and confidence came out of nowhere when I left school. My mum tells me it gets even better when you get older, suddenly you no longer care what people think of you. Smiling and hugging can help, cheesy as that is.
Aw, Trick, you hit it right on the head. I remember when I was in college, I was a mess--two alcoholic parents, my mom and sister died 5 months apart while I was a sophomore in school, and I decided to get married at age 19 to a perfect candidate for an anger management class. Yikes! We were best friends with this wonderful guy who lived below us who was "perfect." A straight A student, always a smile on his face, always said the right stuff, classically handsome, was a caddy at a country club for judges while in high school, got into Northwestern's Business School, got a wonderful marketing job wearing silk suits and Italian leather shoes. I was so envious that he had the perfect life. While we were in college, we'd go to his house over summer vacation and mom would be baking brownies while dad shot the breeze with us "kids." I almost cried.
Then my friend marries the perfect girl and unravels shortly thereafter. Come to find out his dad had been addicted to prescription drugs for many years and life was not happy at all at home. Every bad thing had been swept under the rug. His brother ends up a homeless drug addict and he ends up being such a lost guy--he beat up his wife a few times and she ended up divorcing him because of it. And, he went into this shell, that even I, one of his best friends, couldn't break through.
My heart breaks for him. Because I never hid any of the stuff I had going on with me. All of my friends in high school and college knew of my parents' alcohol problems--and I made clear that I wasn't my parents, you know. I wasn't about to be blamed for their problems. And, feel inferior because they had these problems. And, my friends were so OK with that. And, when I realized that my ex-husband was a walking time bomb, I got the heck out of there and made no excuses about it.
But, my poor friend, he hid all of his problems from everyone and tried to be so normal until he broke apart inside. And, get this, he said that he couldn't be friends with me anymore because I see too much truth in him. He knows that I will call him on his crap, to put it nicely. And, he would rather not deal with having to face the truth. Sad.
Ah, Trick, you don't ramble too much. I do. But, I guess my point is to get stuff out in the open or it will eat you alive. It is OK to be flawed and imperfect. We all are to some extent.
And, your mom is right, the older you get, the less you care what people think of you. Though it doesn't seem possible when you are 13 or 15 or 18 or 21 that it will ever get better or be different. But it can. You just have to have faith in yourself and not let others around you dictate who you are.
*hugs to everyone who had the courage to post their secrets* I got tears reading them. And, wish my arms were long enough to embrace this entire PPT family in a big hug.
Tested made this fabulous set for me!!! Isn't it great?