Equality
I read a book recently. As my incredulous gaze fell upon the final words of the novel, I realized that I had just read a book that I wished fervently I had never begun to read. Make no mistake: Bel Canto by Ann Patchett is a veritable marvel of a book; it is a literary fantasia of comedy, drama, empathy, anguish, grief, romance and wit. Its gratifyingly uncomplicated storyline was resplendent with emotional intricacy, its characters (necessarily romanticized) as-large-as-life. The prose is flawlessly liquid. It was beautiful.
But dear lord, the ending. It made me want to feed the book into a shredder.
I shall spoil nothing. Read it yourself.
In idle conversation, an acquaintance made a rather disturbing observation I feel compelled to comment upon. She said that it is rare - near impossible - to find a relationship in which the two individuals involved are "equal" in their...relationship to the relationship, so to speak. In other words, there is always "the one who loves the other more", or "the one who could leave more easily", or "the better one". She herself was told by her mother to "find a man who loves you more!"; which is, if we wish to be cynical, Admittedly Quite Sound Advice. I find this quite distressing, as I am currently in a relationship in which I feel very strongly that this is not the case, and that it is possible for two people to love equally and be equally matched/deserving of the other's affection.
It is entirely possible, however, that I am being blinded by endorphins and seratonin; therefore, heed not my foolish words.