It's only love: at the end of the day, there are still thunderstorms and sunsets

Open on her voice, rising thinly from the bed.

Listen here, kid. Because I've got some things to tell you. I've got some things you need to hear. Love is not the be all and end all of life. Love is not all you need, love lifts us up and then thumps us right back down on our tender little bottoms. Yeah, that's right, ouch.

What I mean is do not think you have a monopoly on the tragedy and do not think you have a monopoly on the passion and do not think you have a monopoly on the rage or wildness or beauty, and no, especially not on endurance and eternity.

Yeah, sweet new lovers. You will be together forever. You are your own little island, and your own little microcosmic community, and your own little universe. Yeah, whatever. There were others before you and there'll be others to come. What you have is a small reflection, a hint of the real stuff, a diluted taste of the concentrated form.

Here's what: if you can handle love and its loss appropriately then you can maybe embrace the whole of this restless universe.


Cut to her mind, backing up:

Did I come across as too harsh? Trying to tell myself to deal with it. Trying to remind myself I am not the first or the only one to land like this. Hey. Shape up, lady. There is plenty of rage and passion out there. Ripe for the taking, pregnant promises. Don't pretend to be lost without intensity. Hurricanes dance plenty tough. Enough with the self-pity.


Cut back to the bed, fetal crumpled shape sobbing hysterically.

It is really laughter at her own pathetic self. It is really the remains of internal storm washing away. Don't worry.
Love.

What is love? Is it a force of nature which evolved with Man, designed merely to prolong the continuation of our species, to keeping mates together against all odds so we can nurture and cherish our offspring? Or is it a divine power bestowed on us, that transcends life itself?

If the former, then it is a fleeting thing, just as in the grand scheme of the things a single life is a fleeting moment, and a species can disappear, seemingly without consequence.

Thunderstorms.

The essential power of the Universe. Thunderstorms are exciting, powerful, terrifying. They create life, or they can destroy life, but they maintain the health of the planet.

Was lightning the force that made sense of the chemical soup and injected that soup with life itself? A single strike of lightning can wipe out a single tree, a forest, and the abundance of life dependent on that forest. But that very same lightning flash creates nitrites essential for the life of the plants that would grow in that forest, to feed and nourish as they grow anew.

Is a thunderstorm love then, does it create life, nurture and help the world to grow? Is it more powerful than love because it was here before life itself and will continue long after we are gone? This is the wonder of the thunderstorm.

Sunsets.

Possibly the most beautiful thing in the world. Light's last flame before darkness swallows our world. But show me two lovers who have never felt the need to watch a sunset.

With the passing of the daylight people move together, become intimate, relax. Light, where would we be without light? The world would be cold, dark and inhospitable but there would still be life, eking out an existence, waiting for some change so the planet could be renewed.

As the sun sets and darkness prevails, we watch in wonder and awe, safe in the knowledge that somewhere else light is dawning and that soon we too will feel the warmth of its return.

We should not mourn the passing of love because although love may move on, it lives on, and will return, just as the sun will always rise again.

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