Yeah. And a lot of my friends here in Austin are like, "I know what you mean." They don't. When you see the eclipse on TV, part of you thinks it's just a movie or in the very least, something to observe with a level of detachment. But when you're sitting there, and the sky turns dark and the air drops 20 degrees in like a minute and the big ball in the sky that you've depended on being there for your whole life just goes away (it pretty much goes from looking normal to the naked eye to corona in seconds for those who don't know), you don't really know how fragile it all is.
Small, yes. And weak. Like there's nothing we could possibly do as a species that can match the moon just sliding by the sun for three minutes. As much as we try to think we know about the universe, we're almost all going to die having never left the planet. But those things out there are able to unthinkingly destroy everything we are just by floating in a certain direction.
I didn't cry, but I can understand why people did.