What is it about a good love story that makes me so sentimental?
This evening I found myself hypnotized by an impossible romance perpetrated by Jane Austen. This isn't the first time she's done this to me, not by a long shot. This time it was with Jane Eyre. Perhaps the hypnosis was intensified by the presence of Michael Fassbender on the screen. Perhaps.
At the end of the film, which was bitter sweet but all the better for it, I opened my Facebook to see the announcement that some dear friends of mine are having a baby. I had a vision of them together, so joyfully in love those two are. I cannot remember a time when I did not see genuine smiles on their faces. And the vision brought tears to my eyes. These are the kinds of tears I don't mind shedding. Love like that always seems to make me cry. I'm such a sucker some times.
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