I'm not much of a crier most of the time. But {#blank#}1{#/blank#} when I was reading a book on a plane, I started crying. Of course, it came as a big surprise when tears came up, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't {#blank#}2{#/blank#} myself.

    Oh no, not this now. I thought to myself. But even as the thought entered my brain. I felt the {#blank#}3{#/blank#} hot drop of salty water coming down my face. I put my head down, hoping that I could go on reading.

    In fact, the harder I tried, the more tears pushed their way out of my eyes. You could guess how surprised the man next to me looked.

    My head {#blank#}4{#/blank#} in shame. He must think I was crazy. Maybe I could turn towards him, hold up the cover of the book and say in my crying voice. "I'm sorry, sir. It's just a really good book!" But I didn't, say anything. Instead, I just put my head back against the {#blank#}5{#/blank#} and let the tears run. Do you know what decision I made while I was crying? My decision was that it was OK if he thought I was crazy. I preferred to be crazy instead of being the kind of person who wouldn't cry when the situation called for it, or who wouldn't let {#blank#}6{#/blank#} feel anything at all.

    I've been that girl who has spent so much time trying to make sure people didn't think f was crazy. But now I don't want to be that girl any more —that bored and {#blank#}7{#/blank#} girl. I'd rather {#blank#}8{#/blank#} this girl who is able to forgive (原谅), love and act, even if it means being disappointed or being hurt again and again.