How often do we live our romantic life as on the big screen, with torrid affairs and passionate encounters? Almost never, if what I see as normal life around me is anything to judge by. Romances, as previously stated, are hardly ever earthshaking affairs that leave you at the top of the world or batter and bruised.
Romance, in its every day form, as lived out millions of times over around the world, is a slow, subtle, and quiet affair. Something that grows in you, ever so slowly, probably without you even noticing it slowly taking over your being. No one can tell me when I am in love. For if someone did, I would not believe him anyway, for no one but me would know. And even then, it is just a feeling, a certain knowledge that you are feeling this exalting emotion. That you want nothing but the best for someone, that you would never want to see them suffer a moment of sadness. That you are willing to take a great degree of pain for them. I would not go so far as to say be willing to die for your loved one, for we are all human, and we do not know what we are capable of in the face of death until that moment is upon us.
Is the love between the main characters of the film, ever so subtle and understated, no less noble than that between Romeo and Juliet? The unstated emotions, the unsaid feelings, convey far more than any repeated shouts of "I love you". The restraint shown by the lead actor, displayed ever so poignantly in the scene where he watches his love interest through the cafe window, yet never did he move to make himself known to her, was simply heart-wrenching to watch. Would most of us be selfless enough to remain hidden, knowing that her emotions and feelings could not possibly be reciprocated?
On another note, how will I deal with my own certain death? While I can claim I have been seriously ill, I can not in all honesty say that I have ever come close to death. Will I be so calm, putting all my affairs in order, and leaving instructions for others to take up what I leave behind? I suspect I will be calm, for I will have little choice in the matter. Can I be so selfless? Again, the answer will have to be in the negative. I can empathize with the anguish, knowing that your life is forfeit, that fate has dealt you a fatal blow, and that future events, however little there are of them left, are no longer under your control.
Life is nothing more than a series of small events, the culmination of which may seem great for some in retrospect. But only very rarely.
