As what I think was the flu rattled through my body on Monday night, I picked up the remote and pressed the button for Netflix. It was the only thing I could muster up energy for. Finding a series to binge would clearly keep me entertained for the next few days as I stayed wrapped up in a pile of 14 very comfy and fluffy blankets and pillows. What to watch?
I scrolled for about 20 minutes unable to commit to any one series. The flu had even seeped into my decision-making process. I finally found a Ricky Gervais series called “After Life”. It had 3 seasons and a super high rating. The flu was slowing me down so I didn’t know if my brain was ready to keep up with the super quick wit and cadence of Gervais’ speech. He is so damn fast and funny. I hate to miss a line of his. And so, it began.
I was not prepared for what began as a fabulous love story. I am not giving away any plots or plot twists by saying this was perhaps one of the greatest love stories I’ve seen in my movie and tv watching career. Those in the know will say I’m an extreme romantic. This series…well it pretty much told me I’m a hopeless romantic. By Wednesday, all three seasons were complete. The flu had ever so slowly left my body, and I was left with the jagged remnants of a sinus infection and a box of crumpled up tissues. What also remained was a hole in my heart caused by Gervais and his tale woven by an extremely talented and gifted cast. This hole I realized was gaping and held open by the realization from which I may not recover.
The main character was so in love. He loved and missed his wife to the point that he could not live life without her. Life was unbearable without her. It hurt to breathe. That is when it hit me. I have loved like this. In fact, it is who I am. I love hard. I go to the ends of the earth for people I love.
I stopped.
It does not work in reverse.
I have never felt this intensity. All the years of giving and giving and giving thinking “ok – maybe now I’ll feel it”. No. It never arrived. Yes, I’m loved in different ways by others but never with this intensity. Never.
Realizing that life is not fiction, and that reality is often FAR from fiction, I chalked up my uncertainty and this new somber moment to this just being a show. No one is really this happy anyway, right? Right? Well yes. I think people really are. They can be. I was happy giving love. I always have been. It makes me feel brighter. It makes me want to share my energy with others and maybe help anyone I can to see that love is possible – even in the day-to-day tasks.
Heavy sigh. The screen is now off and dark. The dialogue has ceased. So now has a piece of my heart. There is a part of me that is silent and no longer open and trusting that true love lives for me. I will not give up the piece that allows love to live within me. I have however given up the part of my script in which love for me truly exists.
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