WILLIAMS: Grandpa, the hurt of love maims
Any progressive thought in my mind.
I believe love is an incurable disease
Every human must strive to avoid,
Don’t you think?
GRANDPA: hmmm… convince me…
WILLIAMS: Ok, just you imagine you have a friend
Who knows not of your love for her.
She is your friend and you try to please her as one.
But… your heart doesn’t want her as such.
You try to love her less
But your heart wants to love her not so meagre.
And though your mind reigns,
You are barely sane and so you are hardly quiet.
And she comes to chronicle to you
The joys of her great love –
These are laps on the clock you desire of her she gives him.
How racking and maddening… but if only you could steal the clock.
Like Dorian Gray you employ a beastly wise
To hide your true face,
But there is that other soul in you
That longs to be seen,
To be able to share gentleness, kisses and touches,
To show her to a world she never knew or had…
But even the two inside of you can’t brighten the gloom
In the depths of solitude by their drama;
Hence quiet you shall keep so she’ll enjoy
Her bliss and you’ll enjoy your misery because you love her.
GRANDPA: Williams my boy,
That must have hurt whoever you speak of real bad.
Does love really hurt?
(He holds his chin and rolls his eyes thoughtfully)
WILLIAMS: You agree then… (He says eagerly)
GRANDPA: You’re are one wise lad so I’ll telll you this;
Love never hurt me; love killed me, love made me cry
Till I had nothing to cry as tears,
Love made me hurt till I lost my sense of perception,
Love put me down till… I felt immortal.
In the shine of my youth,
When I walked into the inevitable path of love,
It was renewing, refreshing, soothing and thoroughly magical.
Where else, in whom could I have known such wonder?
But in his world and in him – love.
My eyes and ears and all wit were taken
And an addict I became,
Because love was so strong and demanding,
So sweet and but turned sour
Just at the turn of a corner,
Just in the tick of a second.
There were days when she and I just…
Just loved, held each other close,
Kissed each other long, and our hands,
Lips, bodies and our hearts comingled into one.
But in one step, maybe a toss of a coin,
Possibly the start of a new breath,
At the lips of a car she disappeared
In her slow spreading blood
And I have been bleeding ever since.
Such pleasure I’ve roved
Through my years and can’t fathom or find.
Williams, love could hurt,
Love hurt me real bad but…
WILLIAMS: You concede then that love isn’t that flawless bliss
That the movies, songs, stories and poems
Make it out to be? (He interrupts)
You see, a day that never learns to break
Never learns to shine,
A child that never learns to crawl never learns to run.
It is funny how at times death will reborn you,
And how other times
The pain moulds you.
Now listen and listen rapt –
Love is never compromising but sometimes risky,
But living life and never loved to death is worse,
Is worse than laying your heart
To be trampled on by loves feet.
Love is so antique, a wisdom very unpredictable,
A maker misconstrued as a destroyer
Because of the mischief of kismet.
This makes one wonder if love even loves us.
But which science can figure that out?
And that is what makes love a magical flawless bliss.
Love could be bitter,
It could hurt you beyond repair,
But once you’ve encountered it you’d see
That it is sweeter than it is bitter;
That the sobs from your cries if you observe better,
Will realize they are disguised mirths – even the hurt is sweet.
Williams, (He looks him soft and long in the eyes)
Lose your heart son,
Just so you can find it.