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Let me tell you a love story. (Kind of sorry, but also not sorry.)
It’s a story about a guy and gal, who go to the movies together. They go see Past Lives, because it’s a film about Asian people living a life different to the one they were brought up with — and she’s wanted to see it since she knew it existed.Â
Turns out she loves the movie. He’s not so enamoured with it.Â
They agree the dialogue could have been sparklier. It could have had more to say. More could have happened.
But she loves it. Because it’s so ordinary. Because a whole load of stuff doesn’t happen. Because none of the characters are especially witty.
But she understands where he’s coming from. She understands the criticisms — and she can even agree with some of them.
However, as he gets more animated in his criticisms, she finds herself withdrawing. He’s just doing what he does — going all in with enthusiasm — but she’s still raw from seeing a movie that represents so much of how she feels, even if not her direct experience.
He gets louder and more animated. She starts to shut down.
Eventually, she says nothing. She goes silent. No words come out any more.
And as they walk (her in silence), he notices.Â
Is something wrong? Are you okay?
Silence. No words.
Is everything okay?
Her lips part. She tries to speak. But words don’t come out. They don’t want to. She doesn’t want them to.
Together they keep walking, and she is obviously not okay. He is no longer animated with his hands in the air and suddenly he is wondering what is happening.
It’s just…
It’s just… I explain.
I find my words. Eventually. I calm down. I come back. I know what to do.Â
I don’t rush myself. Don’t panic. I don’t tell myself I’ve been wrong for shutting down.Â
I know what to do and I know that I trust him.Â
I explain, matter-of-fact. It’s just this… etc.
And then I try walk on.
Except I’m crying. And he stops me, gently.
I’m sorry I upset you.
I’m sorry, I upset you. I hear these words. I see his face. It is all soft and kind.
I suppose you did upset me. I know you didn’t mean to, and yes, I was upset.
It’s okay.
It’s okay.
The reason I tell you this love story is that it’s ordinary.
It is normal to be hurt by someone you love — even if they didn’t mean to. It is ordinary to stumble, even if you didn’t mean to.Â
It is normal to carry around a past other people don’t understand. And can’t possibly fully understand. (They weren’t there.)Â
It is normal to feel lonely. Even with loved ones around you.Â
It is normal to think you are oh so special because your special past means that only certain types of other people would understand.Â
If you are lucky, you will know people who are special.
You will know people who recognise when you are hurting — and try make amends when they upset you.
You will find people who are willing to apologise for their actions, even if that wasn’t their intention. You will find people who are your friends first and foremost, and love you for who you are.
Best,
Kathryn
PS. Normal, non-love story service resumes next week!
PPS. If you’re ready to chat about life, love, the work that you want to create… get yourself on a call with me. Let’s have a chat—it’s free— and discuss where you want to be. Sounds ridiculous? Only if you think it’s not worth thinking about these things (or if you’ve got it all sorted, more power to you!) Book in a call here.
I haven't seen Past Lives yet (will get to it, I promise!), but with the way you describe it and why you loved it, you may enjoy Columbus (2017) dir. Koganada.
I don’t know how you articulate the unarticulatable - but thank you. For understanding and saying and sharing something I could never express. I feel more human after reading your words. 💛💛💛