Who left the faucet on?

Okay, confession time.  I have observed over the course of my adult life that there are occasional seasons where I find myself unusually close to my emotions and often unable to control them from spilling over.  I'm probably risking my Man Card (yet again) but during these "periods" (and I use the term intentionally for you lovers of the double entendre) I find myself laughing or crying to the point of tears following a commercial that hits me a certain way, or a movie that touches a heart-string, or some such thing.

So I'm watching some of the stories leading up to the opening ceremonies of the Olympics in London.  And they're showcasing some of the paths taken by specific athletes leading to the UK - stories of family, of friends, of personal and community sacrifice.  And I'm crying like a schoolgirl after her first break-up.  Then, later in the week, I'm watching a movie I've seen at least a dozen times (or at least watched fractionally cause I have the lines memorized) and the ending, which I've seen over and over, still causes me to get all teary-eyed and scramble for tissue.

Do you recall this scene from "Sleepless"?  And they were at least faking it...

Like I mentioned above, this doesn't happen all the time.  I'll go through about a week of this "mushy phase" and then snap out of it for months.  And for the life of me I can't figure out the cause.  There's no identifiable trigger or event that's happened immediately before or during that I can identify.  Perhaps it's a shift in the lunar gravitational pull?  Or solar flares?  Maybe the Mayan calendar offers some arcane explanation?

Whatever it is, it's weird.  And don't get me wrong, I have no problem shedding a few tears when I feel it's truly warranted.  I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity to recognize that grown men can and should cry or exhibit other forms of emotion.  I'd just prefer it not be from watching the housewife in the ADT commercial talk about her newly-regained peace-of-mind following a burglary attempt on her home.  Or seeing a YouTube clip of someone's pet miniature pig.  Or watching through waterworks as Jack Nicholson describes his salvation at Morgan Freeman's funeral in the "Bucket List" (for those of you who are regular readers).

Seriously - this would KILL me right about now...

Maybe, however, it's a good thing.  An internal cleansing of sorts.  A reset button I unconsciously push to reaffirm my humanity, my ability to feel, to hurt with others, to let down my defenses.  While unpleasant and certainly uncomfortable, perhaps it's an integral part of how I'm programmed.  Either that, or I'm simply a complete candy-assed pansy!  Jury's still out...