Anything Less Than Mad Love is a Waste of Time

One of the most recently released movies that have per­haps hit home (cringe!), so to speak, is the low-budget “Dream for an Insom­niac” star­ring Ione Skye and Jen­nifer Anis­ton. The lead actor used to be a child star but unfor­tu­nately, the movies which cat­a­pulted him to fame have already slipped my mind. Try to rent a copy of this movie not because of the tal­ent of those who starred in it but because of the dia­logue. One of those lines which bore a hole in my heart was, and I quote (not ver­ba­tim, though: “I don’t want to be sixty years old and mar­ried to my second-best choice,wondering what ever hap­pened to the one who got away.”

This is just one of the two great lines in that movie. I’ll tell you what the other one is later. Mean­time, let me con­cen­trate on this line — the line that sends chills down your spine once you decide to spend more than five sec­onds think­ing about it.

Have you ever won­dered what it must feel like mar­ried to the one you set­tled on? This truly gives me great feel­ings of anx­i­ety. It might be dif­fi­cult to accept the word “set­tle” because it con­jures up images of quasi-happiness and half-hearted glee. Yes, there is some sort of sat­is­fac­tion and per­haps, some feel­ing of secu­rity that can be derived from such a part­ner­ship but I won­der, could there be any­thing more? To set­tle is to ulti­mately accept what is within reach, what is available,what is there. To set­tle is to con­vince one’s self that the deci­sion about to be made is inevitable, real­is­tic, and safe. To set­tle is to risk not ever being truly happy because one decides to adopt the worst type of bahala na atti­tude on life’s great­est chal­lenges. And set­tling is a sorry con­se­quence of the pas­sage of time. Yes, time can be the balm that soothes open, painful wounds in one’s heart but it can also be that dark force that manip­u­lates one’s mind into think­ing and believ­ing that the choice one has made is the best choice… the only choice .

What time does, and I’m sure you’ll agree, is it lodges one’s mind and heart in a cage with the door partly open — with the promise of a bet­ter life los­ing its appeal over the real­ity of the present, the con­ve­nient, and the rou­tine. Time also pres­sures one into select­ing a suitor or spouse because ‘wala nang iba’ (there is no one else) and ‘nag­ma­madali na ako’ (I’m in a hurry) and there, ‘puwede na rin.’ (I’ll make do).

The wicked­ness of “set­tling” is not one way. It also even­tu­ally hurts the one who was cho­sen because in all respects, the truth will sur­face. You no doubt real­ize that you just wasted each other’s time and emo­tions. But then again, if your spouse chose you not because he or she “set­tled,” then for­get about the win-win sit­u­a­tion you were gun­ning for.

Frankie (Ione Skye) deliv­ered that line when she was decid­ing whether or not to do every­thing pos­si­ble to win David Shrader’s heart. David hap­pened to be involved with some­one else. He was attracted to Frankie but didn’t really think it wise to split up with his girl­friend of three years on a limb. Very much unlike you and me, Frankie went for David, bared her soul, and tried to con­vince him that he will only be happy with her. She then gave him the other great line in the movie to make him leave his girl­friend for her.

“Any­thing less than mad, pas­sion­ate love is a waste of my time.”

In the end, David left his girl­friend for Frankie and they lived hap­pily ever after. Wow.

Many times, in my not too col­or­ful past, I almost gave in to the urge to tell the boy I liked what I felt for him. In all those times, I opted oth­er­wise for fear of my mother’s wrath and, of course, embar­rass­ment in case of rejec­tion. I am scared of los­ing my pre­cious dig­nity and pride in case he tells me that he only sees me as a friend. I’m sure you got through these exer­cises in your psy­che too. Some­times, our hearts win out over our brains when our cer­tainty over the out­come is great. But more often than not, I wait for the guy to call. Now you know that I’m one of those who walk the avenues of life on a side­walk — never off it.

Now, I’m start­ing to believe oth­er­wise. I see the beauty in shar­ing your feel­ings with the one you love — not because you expect some­thing in return but because life can­not be lived oth­er­wise. It is a great, big step for an oth­er­wise con­ser­v­a­tive, ‘torpe’ girl like you and me but if you think about it, it’s the only way to go. It’s the only way to live.

Richard Paul Evans’ best­seller after The Christ­mas Box — The Locket — tells us the story of a woman who fell in love with a sol­dier when they were both very young. They shared their feel­ings with each other and were very happy. Even­tu­ally, he went off to war and she mar­ried some­body else, think­ing he wouldn’t return to her. Years passed and they lived their sep­a­rate lives — he mar­ried and had a fam­ily while the woman’s hus­band and son even­tu­ally suc­cumbed to ill­nesses and died. She decided to wait for her soldier’s wife to die before she came back to him — because she didn’t think it was right to com­pli­cate his life. The wait took more than sixty years until she even­tu­ally found the announce­ment of his wife’s death in the obit­u­ary. By this time, the woman was already 80 and could barely walk. Sadly, by the time she man­aged to find her sol­dier to tell him she loved him, he was already senile. The woman even­tu­ally died a few days after see­ing her sol­dier and per­haps going through the most heart-wrenching expe­ri­ence in her life. She was too late .

The morals of the sto­ries I have men­tioned above are sim­i­lar and almost con­nected to each other. Per­haps another book theme that we can tie into these is that line from The Bridges of Madi­son County — “This kind of cer­tainty comes but once in a lifetime.”

I am of the belief that each per­son is given the chance to find his one true love as he goes about his life. Some­times, the oppor­tu­nity is not too obvi­ous, espe­cially for those who are con­tent with their sit­u­a­tion and there­fore are not seek­ing “greener pas­tures.” These times, the chance is often passed up. The luck­ier ones are those who are prob­a­bly more clear-minded and in touch with their emo­tions because they can eas­ily rec­og­nize what is star­ing them in the face. Whether this chance is passed up or not, I know that the feel­ing one gets when this chance is still within reach is one of cer­tainty. Yes, it is also accom­pa­nied with feel­ings of dan­ger, of risk, and of pos­si­ble pain but com­pen­sat­ing for this is that inex­plic­a­ble “sure­ness,” that sense of pro­found hap­pi­ness that has never been derived any­where else but from that one per­son who just hap­pened to pass by in your tidy lit­tle life.

You can fol­low The Rules in your daily life but have the wis­dom and the humil­ity to rec­og­nize a gift from the heav­ens when it is given to you. I call true love a gift because of its rar­ity. It does not hap­pen every­day. If you pass it up the first time, try not to be too arro­gant to look away when it comes by the sec­ond time. You may ask me “how will I know if this is my true love?” My answer to that is this: true love is that strong, awe­some feel­ing that scares the hell out of you but always makes you unbear­ably happy. It doesn’t go away, no mat­ter how much you will it to.

More than any­thing else, you’ll know in your heart when you meet him that he is the one. He doesn’t become the one the same way that soul­mates do not become soul­mates later in life. With him, you are damn cer­tain that you are not set­tling. With him, you know that you will be sixty years old and never won­der­ing about the one that got away because he never did.

He’s right there hold­ing your hand.