First Song That Made Me Cry
I don’t cry easily, and never have, even during emotional movie scenes or crazy arguments with my husband. I think the last time I truly bawled was during my dad’s funeral, nearly two years ago.
I do get misty-eyed when I hear certain songs, like Sufjan Stevens‘ Casimir Pulaski Day, but it’s never one of those ugly, lip-quivering tearfests. I feel the sadness, but the tears don’t come, and I don’t understand that at all. I mean, I have no trouble outwardly displaying anger, fear, disdain, or happiness. Why are the tears just not there?
I still remember the first time I really cried listening to a song. (OK, I’m not counting the juvenile crying I did at scout camp when we all sang Kumbayah? WHAT the hell WAS that, anyway?) I’m not going to bore you with the gory details, but it did involve some hormonally-induced feelings for a certain moody, introspective teenaged boy, who was my first serious boyfriend. He had dark hair and dark eyes, much like the artist who recorded the song. It was from one of his favorite albums of the era, and this was one of his favorite songs. So, when things went sour in the relationship, as they often do with teens, I broke down when this song came on the radio the day after the breakup.
Whenever I hear this song, it reminds me of the hurt I felt as a young woman. Somehow, I still enjoy the song. Funny, though, that this song is from another Stevens.
I wonder if the guy always remembers me like a child?