I’m somewhat stupidly masochistic when it comes to movies and books. I watch and read Nicolas Sparks. I watch and read anything of the same genre.
And I cry.
And I am sitting here, in my bedroom, movie on, trying to cry quietly so my daughter doesn’t hear.
I’m sitting here, having just watched “Safe Haven” and thinking to myself…. “Why do I DO that to myself??”
If you don’t know – Safe Haven is a love story about a widower and a woman with a secret.
Did I really think that there wouldn’t be some incredibly moving, some incredibly touching point in the movie which is designed to not only tug but RIP at my heartstrings?
Did I think I was going to get away with the typical drama/love fest points?
Yeah. Apparently I did. Apparently I forgot how Nicholas Sparks can fuck with my emotions.
The last scene just about killed me. I’m not going to go into details; if you haven’t watched it and want to, I won’t spoil it for you.
But it just about killed me.
And now I can’t stop crying again…
And I probably wont’ stop watching the movies… they help me cry, help me deal, help me process.
I will *NEVER* stop loving him. No matter what happens, no matter who else I love, no matter where else my life takes me… I will *ALWAYS* love him…
I miss him. So much.