Culture

DON’T LET EMOTIONS GET THE BETTER OF YOU

Why is it whenever I go to the cinema and it’s a really sad film I always bump into people that I know coming out?

Why is it whenever I go to the cinema and it’s a really sad film I always bump into people that I know coming out?

I am a very emotional person and once I start crying it takes an awful lot of time before I can stop.

So I enter the cinema, sit down with my popcorn, look around me – Good, no one I know seems to be here. The film starts, and it’s a weepy, within 5 minutes of the film starting I am a wreck, mascara pouring down my face, popcorn stuck to my tear stained face, I cry through the whole thing. When the film finishes, and the lights go up I hear my name being called . “Hi – I thought it was you, are you ok?” – they kindly enquire. No, I’m not ok, I’m frigging desperate, my heart is breaking, my hair is streaked across the cheek that doesn’t have popcorn all over it, and people all around me are giving me a wide berth, that is apart from all my neighbours and friends who apparently decided to see the film at the same time as me, and have decided to wait for me to get my view of the film.

I stare intensely at their faces, they don’t seem worked up or upset, they just seem normal, what is it about me that just can’t handle intense emotions. Now someone is waving from the other side of the cinema, I can’t ignore them, I wave back, they mouth, “meet me outside”. How can I escape them, they can’t see me like this, not without control. I pretend I’m in a hurry, “Got to go” I mouth back, they wave again, whether they understood or not I won’t find out until I escape this crush of people. It’s actually Fiona and Robert from accounts where I work, they can’t see me like this, my name will be mud around the office. I’m usually controlled and dignified at work, not this mad woman who looks like she has just done ten rounds with Frank Bruno.

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Mirror Books

I go to queue for the toilet, the lady in front of me gives me a sympathetic look. “Hey, are you alright?” she asks. I nod, not daring to speak. “Sad wasn’t it?” she says cheerfully. I look at her, you heartless cow I think. Sad – it was more than sad, it was unbearable, it was gut wrenching, it was unbelievably thought provoking, it was what is life all about and should I end it now, it was terrible. Still, she carries on in the same cheery tone, – dying of cancer is sad isn’t it, and with this she gives a little laugh.

This is all I need, I break down now completely, I am overcome, I also desperately need the loo, so at the same time I am keeping an eye open for a cubicle to become vacant. The lady in front goes into the next vacant loo, she pats me on the shoulder, “Hope you feel better soon” thank goodness she has gone.

At last, its my turn. I enter the toilet cubicle, sit down on the seat, and give vent in private to my innermost emotions, I sob and sob, at the same time tearing off streams of loo paper to wipe my now mascara-less eyes with. I probably sit there for ten minutes until I have control of myself. I think I am now ready to face the world. I leave the cubicle, wash my hands, and start to feel a tiny bit better. The film is already receding in my mind, and I can put it behind me.

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The Sea Behind Me/Dir: Steve Moreau

Phew, fresh air, I am outside, I look a freak, but my heart seems to be more controlled now. I pat down my hair, thank goodness it’s dark. Now if I can just make it to the car park and get home everything will be ok.

“There you are.” Its Fiona and Robert from Accounts. “We saw you go to the loo and thought we would just wait to say hello.” “Oh” – I say, “that’s really sweet of you both”. I cringe inwardly.

“So what did you think of the film” Fiona asked, “Oh, I thought it was wonderful “ I weakly reply. “Did you think that the part where he dies, and his fiancée say’s she will never be with anyone else while she cradles his head, and kisses him tenderly , was a bit overdone?” Fiona asks.

The tears well up inside me again as I remember the scene she has just described, and suddenly once again they are streaming down my face. “Are you ok,” Robert asks. “No, no, not at all , I mean – Yes I’m fine” I stammer. “Just got to go, in a bit of hurry.” ‘Oh what a shame,” Fiona replies, “We were going to ask you to come for a drink.”

“Got to go.” I start to back away, I can feel all the emotions coming to the front again, and I know I am in for a Tsunami of a cry, the sort where your whole body shakes and sobs, and you are completely out of control.

At last I reach my car, my hands are shaking so badly I can hardly open the door. Once inside I give vent to my emotions, I let the tears flow, I bang the sides of the car, I stamp my feet, I scream and sob. Just then my mobile goes. “Hi Mum, it’s me.” Its my lovely daughter on the phone. “Did you enjoy the film?” she asks.

“Oh it was great,” I reply. – “I have had the most wonderful evening!”

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