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Moment Love
Dec. 14th, 2006 01:10 pm"What is it they say about true love? Go back to the fairy tales if you want."
"It's, well, it's forever, right?"
"Wrong. It's happily ever after, isn't it? Not that any one really works out their issues or resolves emotions. It has nothing to do with any sort of enduring passion. It's just a fade to black at the moment when you are just suckered in enough to believe it."
"Can't be just that."
"Why not? Ever been able to stay angry, like really violently ready to put the fucking crowbar into their brain pan angry for more than a couple of weeks. Before paying the phone bill or drinks at the pub derails it for a while? You think the grand passion continues thirty years in all the same white hot intensity while you're taking out the garbage and she's frying up leftovers?"
"That's not the point though. It matures, or something. Gets deeper."
"Bullshit. It fades. All emotion fades, and we tell ourselves it somehow changes for the better. When really, you're just tired of fucking in the same positions, seeing her ass get bigger and her complaints louder. That's what affairs are for. It's not the sex. It's the idea of tasting that original emotion that has been lying dead the whole time."
"So no true love then?"
"'s not what I said. True love is real. But it's not forever. The obsessive crawl inside your brain emotions that only let you think of the other person, nothing as important as finding them for every second you can wring out of it. It's about being, in that moment. Not lasting. Just being perfect at that moment before the fade to black."
"Like us?"
"Like us." I handed over the detonator. "Do you want to do it, or should I?"
"It's, well, it's forever, right?"
"Wrong. It's happily ever after, isn't it? Not that any one really works out their issues or resolves emotions. It has nothing to do with any sort of enduring passion. It's just a fade to black at the moment when you are just suckered in enough to believe it."
"Can't be just that."
"Why not? Ever been able to stay angry, like really violently ready to put the fucking crowbar into their brain pan angry for more than a couple of weeks. Before paying the phone bill or drinks at the pub derails it for a while? You think the grand passion continues thirty years in all the same white hot intensity while you're taking out the garbage and she's frying up leftovers?"
"That's not the point though. It matures, or something. Gets deeper."
"Bullshit. It fades. All emotion fades, and we tell ourselves it somehow changes for the better. When really, you're just tired of fucking in the same positions, seeing her ass get bigger and her complaints louder. That's what affairs are for. It's not the sex. It's the idea of tasting that original emotion that has been lying dead the whole time."
"So no true love then?"
"'s not what I said. True love is real. But it's not forever. The obsessive crawl inside your brain emotions that only let you think of the other person, nothing as important as finding them for every second you can wring out of it. It's about being, in that moment. Not lasting. Just being perfect at that moment before the fade to black."
"Like us?"
"Like us." I handed over the detonator. "Do you want to do it, or should I?"
