Do not show me a rom-com, OK?

Megan Keane, Columnist

I’m a pretty emotional person, OK? I can cry at the drop of the hat in regards to most movies, TV shows, books, Facebook posts. It doesn’t even have to be an intentionally sad thing for me to cry over it; sometimes things are just worded well, and then, inevitably, I cry.

I had a favorite rom-com when I was little. Actually, I had a couple. None of them made me cry, though, I was, like, three. I loved “Head Over Heels” and “The Wedding Singer,” “Grease,” “16 Candles,” “Pretty in Pink,” “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” and “The Breakfast Club.” I loved those movies and I still do, but let me tell you about my experience with “The Notebook” and how it’s kept me away from, as a general rule, all romance movies, TV shows, and books.

I watched “The Notebook” almost as a challenge to myself. My mom cried when she watched it. My aunt watched it constantly and cried every time. I was in this stage of my life where I thought crying was a sign of weakness—thanks “Naruto”—and, subsequently, repressed all of my emotional responses.

I figured that I could control myself. There’s no way a movie could be that sad. It wouldn’t make me cry, even if it was that sad. Nope. Not going to happen.

It absolutely happened. How could it not? I was stupid to think it wouldn’t. Naïve. How could I have fooled myself so completely? They were so in love. How awful. I hated it completely.

Let me explain why it’s awful, because you’re probably thinking, “Megan, that’s not awful. You felt something and it moved you.” My friends have had to learn the hard, embarrassing way after seeing movies like “Midnight Sun” and “A Star is Born” with me: when I really feel something, no matter how fictional the thing that provoked those feelings. It’s impossible to stop me.

I blubbered 10 times harder at “A Star is Born” than I did for “The Notebook.” There was snot everywhere, people were staring—I couldn’t speak to my friend without sobbing openly. This was after the credits had rolled. It’s hard to remove myself, I guess.

(It’s not just romance and love that gets me, though. I genuinely cry over everything. Everything. I even managed to cry during my reading of “It” and my viewing of both the movies. All of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s earlier releases evoked tears in one way or another. I’m talking “Thor,” here. “Thor” made me cry. It’s ridiculous.)

As I watch “About Time” with my friends, I’m reminded how certain scenes and words and peoples’ reactions can absolutely reach in to my chest and squeeze on my heart. Tight. And I never want to experience it again—but I probably will. My friends like romance. What a dreadful thing.

Megan Keane is a senior psychology and English major. She can be reached at 581-2812 or at