Man, why do I do this to myself.

Why do I put myself out there, lay my heart on the line, open my very soul up? I always end up getting hurt. Every time I do it I think, never again.

But there's always a next time.

I already know that in a few short months I'll crack and break and end up reading Where the Red Fern Grows or Of Mice and Men again and here I'll be, ugly crying over books.

I mean, even now, Ol' Yeller is calling to me.

Don't do it! Harden your heart!

I can't! I love them so much!

But I know I won't readOl' Yeller for at least a week. Red Fern always breaks my heart bad and I can't read no sad things for a while. It's tied with Of Mice and Men for heartache. Ol' Yeller is a bit like Charlotte's Web: It hurts, but I am still okay.