The other day I got to thinking about the Princess Bride. You know, the movie in which this madly in love couple struggles their way through fire swamps, death, mistaken identity, and ROUS (Rodents of Unusual Size) in order to be together. Two souls, from different backgrounds and with different needs, so in love that they are willing to kill, travel the world, and even give up their own happiness for eachother.
And you know, I know couples, in real life, that are in love. True love. They tell me this. They tell eachother this. I love you. I love you homey. And man, he won't even pick her up from work on a hard day and she can't remember his meds when at the pharmacy. Last week he asked her to wait an hour so he could join in on her hike and that was too much of a sacrifice for her. And I know this other couple. Madly in love as well. They haven't spent more than 3 hours in a row with eachother in years. He prefers the night shift and she doesn't want to give up her yoga class on Sundays.
And I wonder, man...why are we told these fairy tales, these stories? Why is our youth bombarded with images of love so strong, so perservering, that it will battle the odds and outweigh the uncertanties, when some people wouldn't even cross town to see you or change their shirt, let alone their zip code, to please?
And I don't know. Maybe those storeis aren't about love. Maybe that is romance. Maybe love and commitment is more deep and comforting and less pretty and more like that old couple that sits and bickers and brings back our hero from the dead. Maybe after our fated couple finds a way to be with eachother, he gets bored and she gets fat and they sit around, dreaming of days of adventure, freedom and folly. Maybe, he conquers Prince Humperdink and then they can't even agree on what kind of hut to shack up in.
I don't know. I just sometimes wonder if the days of romance are gone. If the world has made it too easy to travel, to meet, to conquer, if there are too many options, too many people, and it's just too easy to not even really try. Or maybe there are just too many other things to do. I mean, maybe back in those days, there were no airline pilots and photojournalists. Maybe it was more like: prince, warlock, farmer? choose your poison and find a good lady to make it all worthwhile. I don't know. I keep saying that, but I really don't know.
But I fear. I fear that we are hitting a pace where every compromise is too big a sacrifice, and everyone expects everything to be far too easy. Far too perfect. Far too convenient.
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