Today is my dad's birthday. I feel like I need to get that out there first, before I state the other obvious, today is also Valentine's Day. I've always been a bit eh to downright hostile about the day. As a kid, it was an excuse for my grandfather (my very first Valentine) to give me a box of chocolates (which c'mon when you are six is awesome!) and eat too much heart shaped candy. As a teenager I grew to hate the day. It's a Hallmark Holiday designed to make you feel bad. Why should a greeting card company dictate when I tell someone I love them? Shouldn't I tell that person (or people) every damn day?
I should. I do.
Life is too short not to tell the people that you love how you feel every day.
This month my friends and I are reading Lauren Oliver's Delirium for our Skype book group. Mainly it's just a few friends from college who all read the same book, have a few glasses of wine and chat about all things great and good (and sometimes bookish). It's a hoot. Anyway, I love Lauren Oliver's books. They are brilliant and well written and the type of YA that I really enjoy. I savour her books. But back to Delirium. Delirium asks the question: If Love were a Disease would you take the Cure?
It's a really interesting question. Especially for Valentine's Day. Would you take the cure? Would you eradicate love from your life? Would you give up the heartache? Hurt? Anger? Loss? Would you let it all go? Let your life be a little less if it meant things were a little more stable?
I have known people with bipolar disorder and the idea behind Delirium reminds me of them a bit. Many of them are on medication and have expressed feelings of their lives not being as rich as a result. They don't experience the ups and downs. Instead, they live in the middle. Not a bad place to be-- but slightly less.
I understand that. Having watched the pain and destruction that love can wreck on families and friends there is something safe about having a cure. About living a life that's not filled with extremes. It certainly means less stress for family members and friends. Less anxiety.
I'm not sure what I'd choose to be honest. The safe answer is of course I'd choose love. Who want's a life without love? But the honest answer is . . . I just don't know. And I'm glad I don't have to choose. Instead, I'll call my dad to wish him a Happy Birthday and hang out with my husband.
I'm lucky in life and lucky in love.
I know this.
Thankfully, so far I don't need a cure.
See, I love Love, but I hate Valentines Day. Still. Even now that I have someone to enjoy it with. Part of love is the joys and sorrows. I don't think I could live any other way. Even if it means one day a year, I'm a little cranky. It's part of who I am.
ReplyDeleteI'm really interested in reading Delerium, myself. It's part of a body of literature I don't think I can get tired of. This is a subject touched upon time and again in literature and movies; it's part of the question about what makes us human. There's a movie I love with Christian Bale and Sean Bean -- Equilibrium -- where the population has their emotions suppressed, supposedly to keep down aggression and end war. There's classic novel, The Giver, where society has chosen to give up emotions and memories for a peaceful life. Then, there's the movie Serenity and the secrets of a world called Miranda and something called the Pax.
In most cases, these stories are dystopian and there are fantastic allegories and connections that can be made, but they all boil down to the idea that with emotion, there's color to life and is a safe life without it better than a life that can encompass a whole symphonic range of emotional highs and lows. Is it better to medicate and medium range the potential extremes out or is it better to let someone live with the capacity for Technicolor dreams? Or (in the case of Serenity) are there dangers in messing with the way people feel?
Thank you, by the way, for posting, and I hope you had a fantastic night with your SO. :)
OMG! Just finished Delirium! So awesome!
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