mynamesearn

I was scrolling TikTok at lunch when I saw one of those reels of people falling in love. You know the type. Then I cried. Like I always do. But this time, while I was crying, I started laughing. Because who the fuck cries this hard just from seeing people in love? I mean, it wasn’t even about me. It was like one of those “How I Met Your Mother” moments. 

There’s something about watching someone fall in love that does something to me. It feels so good knowing that someone out there gets to feel that. Gets to wake up next to a person they love. Gets to look at someone and know, oh, this is it. Maybe I want that too. Maybe I want some love. But it’s not only about that.

It’s also that I just love seeing it. I love witnessing it. When two souls find each other and somehow fit, even when the world doesn’t make sense. That kind of love that feels quiet and loud at the same time. It’s so wholesome. So pure. So… right. And for some reason, I cry every single time.

This is my thing now. Crying at strangers’ love stories on the internet. Sometimes it’s people hugging after a long-distance relationship. Sometimes it’s a surprise proposal. Sometimes it’s just someone smiling like they’ve finally been seen. I swear, I’ll cry over a 15-second clip like it’s my own life.

Then I laugh again. Then cry again. It’s a full cycle. And not gonna lie, sometimes I wonder if something might be off with me chemically. I actually tried drugs one time because I wanted to know how it felt. I didn’t feel much. Maybe a little. I guess the drug didn’t work on me, so maybe something is off with me chemically. I didn’t really need it, I just had to try it once. But crying over strangers falling in love on my screen? Yeah, that hits every time.

I think I’m just built this way. A romantic soul. Or maybe the way I was raised made me this way. I don’t know. I can be clingy. Or not at all. Depends. But lately I’ve been thinking, why do I cry this much at love? Why does it hit me like this, so often, so deeply? So I did some digging, tried to understand it from a psychology perspective.

And I found out there’s something called emotional contagion. Basically, when you see someone else feeling something, your brain mirrors it. Even if you’re not in that situation. So if someone’s in love and glowing, your brain might just decide, okay, we’re feeling that too. It lights up the same part in your brain that would light up if you were actually in love. Especially if you’re emotionally sensitive. Which I guess I am.

But it also goes deeper. Sometimes crying like that can come from unmet emotional needs. Things like intimacy, connection, being held, being seen, being safe. So when I watch someone live that out, even in a short clip, it can hit this quiet ache inside me. Something I might not be thinking about all the time. But my body knows it’s missing. And it reacts.

There’s also something called displaced emotion. Where you’re not even crying about the thing you’re watching. You’re crying about other things, older things. Stuff that’s been tucked away, waiting for an exit. And love scenes become that exit. And sometimes, it’s not even about sadness. It’s about meaning. I don’t just see people falling in love. I see possibility. I see the kind of love I want. I watch a couple hugging on a rainy street and suddenly, it’s not about them anymore. It’s about what I long for. 

These moments carry layers. And if you’ve ever loved deeply, or lost deeply, or grown up learning to feel quietly, then you know exactly what I mean. A small gesture on screen becomes this loud echo in your chest. It reminds you of what was, what wasn’t, what almost was. It’s not just their story. Somehow, it becomes yours too. 

And maybe, it’s also because love and joy are such deeply human things. They remind us of what it means to be alive. Of what it means to feel connected to something or someone beyond ourselves. To be seen. To be chosen. To matter.

It’s not just about the kiss or the moment or the soft lighting. It’s the feeling behind it. The quiet safety. The spark. It’s watching two people let their guards down and say, maybe not out loud, but with their eyes, you’re my person. And even if I’m just some stranger on the internet watching it unfold, it still hits something in me.

There’s something so raw and tender about that. It’s like for a second, time slows down, and you’re reminded that being human isn’t about the big stuff all the time. Sometimes it’s just about the little glances, the subtle gestures, the way someone looks at another person like they’re the whole damn world.

And when I see that, I feel everything all at once. The beauty of it. The ache. The aliveness. That’s when the tears come. Not because I’m sad, but because I feel it. All of it. Like it’s flooding through me, even if it’s not mine to hold.

Those kinds of tears feel like they come straight from the soul. Like they belong to a part of me that doesn’t always get to speak, but when it does, it’s honest. It’s real. 

So yeah, maybe nothing is wrong with me. I’m just someone who cries because love still moves me, even when it’s far away, even when I’m not in it. It’s not about being too sensitive or dramatic. Maybe it’s about being alive enough to let it touch me. And maybe that’s a beautiful thing.