"Romeo & Juliet"
"Bonnie & Clyde"
Are you seeing the pattern here? Because I noticed it the other day, and it's bugging me.
According to Hollywood, people who fall in love... DIE.
Sometimes both..... but many times only one.... leaving the other to painfully carry on. And we, the viewing audience, sit with our tissues, weeping at the devastating beauty of it all. Moved, we claim once again that it is "better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all."
However, IN the mess.... it's an entirely different creature. Damaged or disappointed, broken-hearted or bitter, the gorgeous lush quality of loss is a celluloid lie, and you do not have the wardrobe or stylist that would make it look pretty on you.
Loss is just that. The agony of defeat, painfully real and not beautiful at all.
So why, generation after generation, do we still buy into that created world where absence makes the heart fonder? Where the sad tatterings of a shattered heart are a war wound one wears with pride, like a boy scout badge that says, "I once knew a desire beyond all this, for I once loved"??
What is the design of the human creature, such that we continually do this to ourselves?
And why, o WHY do I, as I type this lamentation about internal pain, keep getting distracted by the really cute boy who keeps crossing in front of my desk?
It can't just be some intrinsic genetic design to continue our species, can it? Are we really all such slaves to our groins?
ooop.. there he is again.... I think he's new. *grin* Pardon me while I go make introductions.