Have you ever watched a movie and felt as if it was an adaptation of your life? It can be coincidences or maybe the story of your life is too stereotypical that anybody could have turned it into an hour and a half film.
I cried a bucket when I watched P.S I Love You. Despite being the best romance movie I have ever seen in this decade, I also thought somehow I could relate to it. Not that my boyfriend died and left me letters or anything, but when I first watched it, the first 20 minutes or so seemed very familiar, like it was an excerpt of my (then) love-life.
It was one of those nights where Mr. Tiena and I called the 'Movie Night. It's always 'Movie Night' whenever we got back from D's studio cause that's when we'll be lending two or three of Z's pirated dvds. We were just finished eating a home-cooked dinner, I got the cd into the player, snuggled myself between his arms and his protruding tummy.
The first 20 minutes or so got us silent. The moment the fighting couple slammed the door on each other, and seconds later opened the door and ran into each other, made us turned our heads, I looked in Mr. Tiena's eyes and he mine, and we burst out laughing. And that was when P.S I Love You was declared as 'our' movie. And the song Love You Till The End by The Pogues, was 'our' song.*pass barf bags around*
Fast forward to a few weeks later, we were yelling at each other, I shoved him out of the house, told him off, slammed the door shut. Fifteen minutes later I opened the door, normally he'd still be there, standing outside the door and then I would rush into his arms and apologize profusely. But that day was not a normal day for us. He was not there. He left, just like I asked.
I thought this is what I have always wanted. But why does liberation feels like an empty universe?
Drafted on 16/10/2008
Found this in the Draft folder, it was almost two years ago.. My guess it was too mushy I couldn't hit the Publish button. LOL. At that time I was still in an on-off-on-again-off-again relationship.
Pretty sure every woman out there could relate to Holly. She was a woman who made mistakes, who sometimes cried on a Monday morning or at night alone in bed. She was a woman who often became bored with her life and found it hard to get up for work in the morning. She was a woman who more often than not had a bad hair day, who looked in the mirror and wondered why she couldn't just drag herself to the gym more often, she was a woman who had sometimes hated her job and questioned what reason she had to live on this planet. She was a woman who sometimes just got things wrong.
I really love the book and the movie, they never fail to make me laugh and cry my eyes out every single time (I wear my heart on my sleeve). As melancholic as I was in the first six paragraphs above, a fraction of Gerry and Holly's fictional love story strikes a chord, tugs the heart. It got me reminded of the past. Sigh.
Now the irony of it all is I am beginning to see/be in the other chapter of Holly's life towards the end of the book - right here, right now, in the present. Only his name isn't Daniel, but his previous love's name is Laura (in the form of 4-wheel automobile though, haha. And I'm pretty sure that this present isn't the future).
Self reflection today got me realized that I am beginning to feel really annoyed (those around are sure irritated as hell to be hearing me whining about the same thing week after week after week! Hahaha... :P) with myself because of the things I did and do to myself, to The Past and to The Present.
Sigh... You're right, I have to stop being selfish.
Happy Valentine's, people. ;)
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