Just finished watching the greatest love story of our time, Atonement.
I’ve seen it before, but it deserves repeated watching, since you’ll begin to understand the characters and plot more (since the scenes skip around a bit).
Honestly though, there is a pain in my chest.
It’s not one of those movies where I begin to sob by the end because it’s so touching, but one where I feel my throat begin to close as the pain from my heart works it way up. I feel a tingle in my nose, and like a rushing wave, the tears instantly begin to pour…fast and silent as I take in what I’ve seen. There is no tragedy like it. It’s said that greatest love is forbidden love, but beyond that is love that is lost.
Lately, my obsession with love has brought me to begin reading great love stories. In my small bookshelf in my flat, I have lined up Atonement, Pride and Prejudice, Tristan and Isolde, the Notebook and more to follow. Romance is a topic I know not enough about. The honesty that is written in these love stories is no less than the greatest words ever placed on a page.
They are true and poetic.
They do not always have a need for happy endings and the timeline makes no matter to its story. Some love takes a lifetime and lasts one too, but the most tragic and the strongest love of all are the stolen moments where the touch of someone’s hand keeps you hoping. It is knowing that they’re waiting for you and promising to see them again; the tragedy is being unable to. It’s a love that aches the heart of the reader or audience…It’s the pain of knowing what could have been, if only things had happened differently.
It’s my new obsession.
