I think I was in the 3rd grade, staying on my grandparent's farm as my parents were out, you know, enjoying time away from being a parent, and a rainy day put me square in front of the TV all day. There was a local access channel somewhere in West Alabama that would show some of the craziest, goriest stuff in the afternoons. Trauma. Pure Trauma.
One day, The Fly came on. It was the first time, as I can recall, I wasn't as much repulsed as I was sad for a character like Seth Brundle, our hero - antagonist/protagonist fused into one being - felt the only way to love was to completely change a woman into a version of himself, which itself is warped, painful, telling as to how his character viewed the act of connecting, loving, being with another being....by becoming ONE in a literal sense. OOf.
Of course, I was in the third grade, so I couldn't go into that sort of detail then...but it was one of those things that stayed with me, haunted me till I knew "why" I loved it so much. It's such a sad, beautiful, gooey, opera. Super gooey. Did I say gooey? Cause it sure it.