I am a churning pool of emotion. I am one of those people who can put themselves in anyone’s shoes to feel the emotion that pulls on their heart-strings. Sometimes it is a true blessing and sometimes the catastrophic emotional breakdown is embarrassing. The control of the outpouring of tears in public has been much improved but behind closed doors all bets are off.
Empathy is a gift that I feel truly fortunate to have. It is easy to be sympathetic and try to understand what another human being is enduring but to be able to delve into that raw emotion and feel the searing scars of that pain as if it were my own enables me to really reach out to that suffering soul and comprehend what they are going through.
That mutual experience of emotion, for me, is not strictly reserved for direct contact with another human being. I experience the same overwhelming sensations if I am watching an emotionally charged movie, listening to beautifully composed music or reading a consuming book that drips with powerful sentiment. Last night my face was awash with tears watching a simple television show. I’m not sure what came over me but the story was deeply touching and as I felt the first tear caress my cheek I knew there were more to follow.
Perhaps part of my longing to write with such feeling is because I want the person reading to have the same experience I had while writing it. I want the emotion that held my heart prisoner to be injected into the reader with the same paralyzing sensation that I so easily succumbed. I can only hope that once my novel is complete, the characters that I birthed will be overflowing with angst, ready to cry on a whim and that I can somehow find a way to make those feelings jump off the page.