Thursday 5 November 2015

Heartbreak Hotel


I often think how I have matured from being a romantic movie buff to an actual lover.It's true that we always try to imagine our life to be an exact copy of some movie,how two strangers meet one day,two people who have no clue how their worlds are going to turn upside down,they fall desperately in love,they get separated and they meet again one day,when the rain is falling and the movie ends in a happy note with the two lovers getting united forever.I used to watch "One Tree Hill" a lot,I so admired Lucas and Peyton's love story and then slowly it got so stale with their on and off relationship,Lucas's numerous engagements to other women,I used to think "Why is he doing this when he still loves Peyton?"It's quite rare that your love gets reciprocated the way you want it to be and these people take a whole season to get back together.Sigh!we do rely too much on television to get the taste of how it feels to be accepted in love.

My readers might think why am I writing so much on love?Well,I suffered a heartbreak a few days ago,and I know what it means to be away from something that you have always wanted in life.Things always don't turn up to be the way you want them to be,but then again life moves on.You stumble upon another person in life and get your heart broken,again.Well,I was really upset today,angry inside for being a fool in relationships when I came across this beautiful letter written by my most favorite author,John Steinbeck to his eldest son,Thom when he fell in love with a girl named Susan.It is more than just a blessing to me when I am trying to get a closure.I have always seen love through a woman's eyes well since I am a woman myself but I never knew what men feel when then they are in love.And I am going to share it with you today.

"Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect— not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.
But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,
Fa


Well,I have always been the one afraid to lose what's important to me,but,now,I'll keep in mind this precious little advice."nothing good gets away". Patience is the key,my heart,patience.

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