I came across a truly great movie last night. The only reason I mention it is because good movies are becoming harder and harder to find. This movie stars Colin Firth as a gay British professor living in Los Angles in the 1950's. His boyfriend of 16 years dies in a tragic car accident. He is so grief stricken that he wakes up one day and decides to kill himself. His love for his friend is so great that he literally cannot live with out him.
What struck me about this movie is his devotion and deep love of another person. So much so, that he chooses not to live anymore. The question that kept running around in my head was... Is that kind of love even possible? I want to tell you all a little story...
Several years ago a good friend of mine thought that he had found the love of his life. He even took it as far as to marry her, what a fucking dumb ass. Even though none of his friends, including myself, had the balls to tell him, she was not as into him, as he was into her. There was a sorta sadness that lived within her, that made her distant. Surely he sensed it. I know now, that he even though he has not heard nor seen her in years, he still loves her. He meant every word he said that ill fated night in October when he said those vows in front of his friends and family. Don't words mean anything, anymore? Did she not mean what she said? Did she not love him? Why would she even marry him if she was not committed. "For better or worse?"
Poor sap. I really feel for the guy.
So the question still remains. Is that kind of love even possible? Isn't love suppose to be forever? Maybe, maybe not. I think some asshole said, "it's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." I would say that is right. I have had several loves in my life and I plan on having several more... "For better or worse."
Cheers friends!
Good night.
Captain Shitty
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