The Notebook

Love is a peculiar thing.

Just finished watching The Notebook, about an ill fated love set in the 1940s.
It’s been ages since I did a post-movie-thoughts kinda thing; and surprisingly, The Notebook didn’t make me cry, but it made me reflect more on life instead. I mean, there were definitely some very tear-jerking moments.

What is love? Why do everyone make such a big deal out of it? It’s too great to fit it in a single definition isn’t it?

Recently I’ve been reading this book on wisdom guided by romance—”don’t rush things”, “only fools rush in”—and romance, as crazy as it entails, involves some very sad truth about it’s practical and realistic side.

I mean, Noel and Allie practically rushed everything, they even skipped the friendship part before dating each other. How well do they really know each other..? Then based on family differences, war, different phases of life, parents’ objection…well, my mum walked past the TV, took a stand and said, “They’re too young, not mature enough to understand that they’re not fit for each other.”

Romantics, on the other hand, tells me that age, cultural differences, religion shouldn’t matter, they shouldn’t be the main factor for a breakup, etc.

“Age is just a number.”
“As long as you love each other, you can work anything out.”

Practicals, like my mother, would agree on the danger of over-romanticising love.

So what do I do? If I choose the latter, I would be labelled as cynical and close minded, being so nit-picky when it comes to love; and if I choose the former, then am I less wise?
Love is a peculiar thing.

And when Noel was begging Allie to stay, screaming at her and asking her, “for once in your life, what do you want?” My mum shook her head and said, “He’s too forceful.”

I beg to differ.

I mean, it’s so peculiar isn’t it? That 2 people can watch the same movies, hear the same lines, yet have very different interpretations of the situation, of the issue; just because we hold different values about love.

I don’t think Noel is forceful. He’s encouraging Allie to stop living for people, stop making choices based on what her parents want, based on what he want or based on what her fiancé wants; and to think about what she wants, because that’s true freedom. And I don’t think that is being forceful. That is a life value, to live and love based on her desires. And I think that isn’t selfish. Love isn’t selfish. It isn’t asking her to choose who over who, but telling her to take charge of her own life.

“Beautiful dripping fragments—the negligent list of one after another, as I happen to call them to me, or drink of them, the real poems, what we call poems being merely pictures, the poems of the privacy of the night…”
Love is a peculiar thing.

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