"I'd walk that distance, I'd run to you...if you promise to catch me when I fall."
After watching two of the most hautingly accurate and devestating romances I've ever seen, I feel slightly jaded. In both, the protagonist (of course, female), falls devestatingly in love with the man who drives her crazy, but ends up being perfect for her. After passionate embraces and terrible circumstances they end up coming so close to being together...and are them pulled apart for good by external circumstances.
In Becoming Jane, the saddest part was probably that it was the true story of this great novelist's life. After reading several of her novels, I could only conclude that she had a great imagination, or a wonderful marriage. In truth, it was neither. Well, she did have a great imagination, but she drew from her own experience of heartbreak. The difference being that the characters in her novel's love stories end happily. Austen ended up alone with her pen. Not that such a thing isn't commendable, and perhaps if it wasn't for her heartbreak we wouldn't have her wonderful work. But...knowing she was never with the only man she ever loved breaks my heart. The fact is, this is reality for many. Unrequited love.
Take my grandmother for example. She was married to an alcoholic and had 6 children with him. I've heard from the own woman's mouth that she never loved him, and that she's still looking for her soulmate. She is 75 years-old. Is to live with no great love tragic, or plain circumstance? I want to believe we all have someone out there for us, but that's impossible when I open my eyes and become a realist.
So should we grab on to loose ends? Should Austen have married the suiter who was wealthy? Should my grandmother have married again simply out of duty? Certainly not. Austen should be commended for still living her life and becoming such a celebrated author. I should praise my grandmother for being so independant.
A part of me is still sad for them. I want to be independant and celebrated for my accomplishments. But it is possible to fall in love witht he right man and have the life I want? Maybe no one ever gets the life they want...not entirely. Is it wrong to still want to fall in love like the movies? To demand chivalry and passion? AND to want my own life?
I suppose all I can do is wait. But let's hope I'm still not waiting when I'm 75.
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