And so I was watching Jenny and Marina’s love story via clips on YouTube, and I cried. And cried, and cried. Because I recognize the look in Jenny’s eyes, I recognize the words she hang on her lips, and I know how her hunger feels.
‘Do you want to be safe?’ – Marina
A random uncle told me with a smile today that since we had to continue living anyhow, why not choose to be happy instead of sad despite circumstances?
Why not, indeed? I am plodding along, and I wish to happy. I wish to turn my head away from things that make me cry. I look for things or events or situations which has traditionally made me happy once upon a time sometime ago to distract myself from the inexplicable bouts of tears and sadness and acute sense of loss that come by every once in awhile. I call them distractions, but why should they be distractions?
I sit still sometimes in transit and think about how people really do fall in love in mysterious ways, or so Ed Sheeran might have sung it.
A might love B for B’s utility. B’s ability to make A happy. B’s capacity and capability to support A’s dreams. B’s inclination to not get in A’s way. B’s compatibility with business interests and desired situations. B’s convenience and low upkeep/maintenance. What happens when you take utility away? B might fall very sick and might warrant support instead of providing it. B might become inconvenient and demanding. What is then left of B for A?
A might love B for B’s presence. A loves B for being B. A loves B because A wants to be around B for a long time to come. There is no grand plan, or blueprint in place or any particular reason as to why A wants to be with B except because.
And most people will consider petty things about the other before deciding on marriage. His habits, his displayed character, his family, his wealth. When young and able bodied, I guess no one really thinks about any possible game changers up ahead. Will he look around when you grow old and tired and lose your ability to be presentable to others? Will he come home late every night when all he comes home to is a tired cranky wife chained to the sink who is unable to amuse him? Will he push you around on a wheelchair if you lose both legs? Will he hold your hand if you have Alzheimer’s and don’t remember him? Why would you rather be loved for your utility once you consider this?
I sit and cry and wonder if I am crying thinking about the fiery arrow that I narrowly dodged or if I am crying because I was not hit and burnt. Why is it so difficult for the heart to forget and be truly happy again, when my head tells me clearly that I am on the right way forward?
茉莉花の独り言 