So, is it morbid or just the kind of journalistic seeing that comes from a long education that makes me see death in every little moment between any man and any woman? I've had this idea to write 'obituaries' for couples, in which the entire history of a relationship can be reduced to a moment? It doesn't much matter whether the moment is final or fleeting or casual or dramatic. I mean: that Katie and Tomasz piece is sorta dramatic, in a small way, but his back to her, her leaning toward him, his beer-prop, their attention to their clothes seemed at the moment like ten million romance novels, long lifetimes of tragedies, and, inevitably, death. Not that I mourned as I watched them, but I did have the sense that the whole flirtation was weighted with doom, and that's what made it sweet? Love feels like fall. Fall feels like autumning in love. So beautiful and so sad and so neither here nor there but sort of suspended between what was and what will be, so lightly balanced like that bar trick with the saltshaker that you can hardly breathe, which I suppose accounts for the lightheadedness.
Yeah. If you ask people what they want in life they'll say they don't know. If you ask them what love is, they'll tell you what they want in life. Love doesn't stand a chance.
ReplyDeleteWere you thinking of the Will Oldham song where the next line is "and it making hosing much more fun"?
ReplyDeleteThat one precisely. Do you remember when love didn't have much idea in it and was a sort of wild craving to be with/next to/inside of/on top of the perfectly-configured Other come heller highwaters so helpmeet God, till death do us? Since when did houses and cars and discussions about what brand of canned tomoatoes get all scrambled up innit?
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