Why did I think I could handle watching Marley & Me? Everyone told me they'd cried watching it. How did I think I of all people would survive it? Maybe I thought I'd cry those bittersweet tears, the this-is-sad-but-he-had-a-good-life cry? And Owen Wilson, Jennifer Aniston, they're funny people. They'd never break my heart. Right?
Dave is finishing the movie right now. I left when Marley's stomach twisted for the second time, and I am now sitting in our freshly painted office, peering at the computer screen through swollen eyelids. I feel ridiculous...but not ridiculous enough to go into the living room for the final scenes.
Wait, I think I hear the credits. (And maybe the sound of my husband blowing his nose, but I'm not sure he'll ever confess to it.)