This is a short prose poem by a mutual friend of me and my partner, Debbie Choo.
Indeed - why should I not admit it? - At that moment my heart was breaking. Kazuo Ishiguro, The Remains of the Day.
Your love, as all mature people know, will never be like the movies–indie ones included. Those films tell one tale or maybe a lot of tales (Love Actually), but ultimately it is not your tale. Your tale is Something Else.
Love, I am told by many, apparently has to be in the present. So I had this inner monologue:
Me #1 - What if you have lost someone, for example a death or a parting? You can still love them by letting go, right? Is loving their memories loving them?
Me #2 - Loving someone by letting go can be considered a bit of a paradox. Love and attachement can be considered separate things, and if this is the case, yes, you can still love someone by letting go of your attachement from them. This letting go can be considered an act of love but many people do consider love to be something that can only happen in the present, whether in the present time or present space. Feelings of infatuation are a whole different thing. Anyway, this question is probably why most people don’t think long distance relationships work out and many, indeed, do not. When someone leaves your physical presence, do you love the idea of them or the actual being?
Anyway, I am incredibly influenced by Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel The Remains of the Day, which I read many years ago. Due to this novel, I always value the heart over social conventions in general. This novel is about regret and the unlived life.
I used a quotation from the novel and started wondering about essentially the definition of love because, well, I think there are many moments in a person’s life where they need to stop doing and come to a standstill (not all the time, because you may then become a pseudo-philosopher couch potato weaving sophistries) and I am having one of those moments right now.