“You have no idea how boring everything was before I met you.”
Sometimes a film will capture a thought, or an experience, or
a feeling that you’ve always kept inside of you and considered a vital piece in
the compilation of this person that you’re supposed to be.
I enjoyed An Education (dir. Lorne Scherfig,
2009). It was a pleasant and entertaining film full of charismatic actors and a
jovial, British humour. What’s not to love about that?
Yet there was something more to it that captivated me, and
has thrust me straight into my small hole of despair, loneliness and
restlessness, that I tend to try to avoid on nights like these. Nights when the
rain is falling ever so nicely yet the names in my contacts list begin to mean
nothing.
Films like these make me fall in love with the idea of
falling in love, all over again.
I don’t need to. I don’t want to. I have no time, no room in
my life, nor the emotional capacity to do so.
But then a film like this comes along, even though it is one
that quite clearly proposes the opposite of “falling in love”, and I cannot
help myself.
It’s not to do with what they say, or how they kiss, or their
slow dance together, or marriage proposals, or the words “I love you”.
It’s the way they looked at each other, at the very start.
That acknowledgement that you’re not trying to feel this overwhelmed
intentionally. The blush that cannot be controlled. The desire to glance over
at them without any thought as to whether they are looking back at you. But
they are.
I cannot help but
fall for it, staying up all night wondering when I might next experience that
spark.
related posts.
the break up but not break down by hayley stockall
chasing ghosts by kimberley veart
related posts.
the break up but not break down by hayley stockall
chasing ghosts by kimberley veart
