Dear young man,
You were right next to me at a screening of Little Women. On your other side was a perfectly lovely young woman who enjoyed the movie. She cried at the sad parts, laughed at the funny parts, gasped at the gaspy parts (naughty Amy!)
You, however, are a psychopath, because your reaction to all those parts was to sigh dramatically, shake your head, hurl yourself back in your seat, and check your very bright Apple Watch.
You even sighed at a tender part during which I held my husband’s hand because HE WAS CRYING like a normal human being. He was not sighing, or clutching his brow, and he did not turn on his phone for twenty minutes so he could plan where to eat after.
During the credits I tried to catch your girlfriend’s eye as you were leaving so I could pantomime “break” (pencil-breaking motion) “up” (pointing up) but she was wiping her eyes so she didn’t see me.
You sighed so loudly that the people in front of you noticed. I know, because we discussed you after the credits. You radiated that level of drama. Why would a teenager so uncomfortable with displays of emotion broadcast his feelings so publicly?
Also, how can you not love Little Women, you misguided boy? It’s like the last Star Wars movie. You love it for what it is, not how it is. And it was excellent.