I am beginning to feel as if people can tell my secret just by looking at me. I play along for a while in conversations, a master of deceit.

I pretend to be a part of what others are saying, but I can only stand living the lie for so long before my lips blurt out the cold, hard truth.

I have not seen “Titanic.”

Worse yet, I’m not even sure that I want to see it.

I feel alone in my state of non-Titanical mind. To be completely honest, I would like to see the film someday. However, the reasons not to see it seem to override that desire at this point.

Don’t worry, I won’t cling to the well-worn argument that I already know how the story ends. Talk about a poor excuse! Knowing how something ends doesn’t mean the beginning and middle aren’t worth your time. Didn’t we learn that from watching Apollo 13 when it came out?

Rather, my reasons are much more rational. From what I’ve heard about “Titanic,” it’s one of those gusher movies. I just don’t want to sob my eyes out in public. I’ll admit it. I’m the picture-perfect audience member, destined to cry at all the sappy parts of any slightly emotional movie.

Filmmakers target people like me and then wait with glee in the hallways of the movie theater to watch me walk out with watery eyes, as I am sniffing and sniveling on my sleeve after a tear-jerking flick. If I can avoid such a pathetic public display, believe me, I will.

Also, while it might be fun to be part of the national sinking-ship craze, participating in activities that the entire world is doing makes me feel unoriginal. Besides that, it makes the lines longer. Waiting in line for a hour to see a Broadway show or the like is fine, but a movie I could catch later on video? Forget it.

That’s the problem with popularity. Once everyone likes a movie, a show or a musical group, the competition to watch it is overwhelming. I think that’s part of the appeal of no-name, beginning bands. It’s fun to waltz right in to a bar or performing area, hear an incredibly good band, perhaps dance all night to music you’ve never heard before, and leave feeling superior to the rest of the world for discovering their existence.

Once a band gets a name for themselves and everyone else jumps on the wagon, take a number friend. You’ll see a decrease in tuition before you ever see that band again without spending the better half of your evening in line.

Although, the line excuse works wonders when trying to explain to official members of TFA (“Titanic” Fanatics Anonymous) why you haven’t attended a showing yet. By now, I almost feel silly I haven’t seen it yet, so I make up stories about how the world is against me.

“The line was so long! I tried to see it three times, but it was always sold out!” I say. They, in turn, express their sympathies and wish me the best of luck finding a spot in the matinee performance of the next day.

As with any good list of reasons, one must include something involving aliens or world domination. Anything as popular as this movie makes me nervous. What if someone is brainwashing movie-goers with this flick and is planning a hostile world takeover? “Titanic” could be sending subliminal messages to people, with ultimate goal being to rule their lives and souls!

Likely? Perhaps not. However, it would explain all the multi-watchers — those who have seen the movie two, three or even four times and still have yet to satisfy their lust for tragic romance.

That’s it. My secret is out. Criticize me if you will, but I refuse to see “Titanic” until I’m the last person remaining in this state to watch it.

Or at least until the lines get shorter.

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Joanne Roepke is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Aurora.