Crying, ain't it a bitch?

I just had a birthday recently and am almost 30 years old. It is a bit surreal. Becoming older, I have noticed interesting things happening to me. Almost like hitting puberty all over again. Only instead of zits and awkward boners, I throw out my back doing simple tasks and get awkward boners.

They awkward as hell.

One thing I have noticed, and I will probably lose coveted "man points" and "street cred" for this, is that I cry a lot more during movies than I ever have before.

As previously stated in other posts, I use to be in a gang. While in the gang, one does not show emotion. Ever. Emotions are viewed as a sign of weakness. Even when one of the homies dies, do not cry. Being apart of these jolly group of gentlemen, I followed these rules to a 'T.' For all the years apart of them, I never cried and I never cried for the years following. One could say I was a stone cold gangsta.

You know they are hardcore when their pants are pressed. 

Years past and I left that life behind. I began to open up a bit more, but still never cried. Cut to December of 2005. I went to a movie that changed all of this. I saw Peter Jackon's King Kong. It was filled with action, suspense, and a giant gorilla punching dinosaurs. The end of the movie is what changed my life. When King Kong died, I started to cry. This shocked me. I quickly exited the theater and ran to my truck. It was there that I cried for another five whole minutes.

When I was finished, I cleaned myself up and drove home. My mind tried to comprehend what happened. Anger filled my body. I quickly suppressed this strange event and carried on with my day.

I cried three times just looking at this picture.

The following years, I began to get emotional at certain things. I would well up during some movies. Tears would stream down my face when I listened to some songs. Sometimes it felt like my body was trying to make up for all the years of not crying.

I hated it.

My wife has assured me that it is okay to cry. Crying is not bad. I know she is right, but I still hate it. The other day I was watching The Coen Brother's version of True Grit. When Rooster Cogburn had to put down Blacky after he rode it to death, I lost it. I bawled. Again, I felt stupid. I figure it is something that I will have to deal with.

I am becoming more emotional in my old age.

Pictured: Me now after listening to Wild Horses by the Rolling Stones.