Despite a few rather notable exceptions, I’ve found I’m not a big crier.
I have nothing against it, mind you. I think tears are rather good for your skin, and they can be rather poetic and lovely and necessary, like when Emma Thompson totally loses it at the end of Sense and Sensibility.
It’s just not my thing, I guess (come to think of it, it wasn’t Elinor’s either, was it?). I don’t conceal my emotions: they are apparent to everyone. But more often than not, they choose to present themselves not through tears but rather through sarcasm, weird facial expressions, and an insatiable hunger for cookies.