Amelie : True Love

Amelie is playing on the t.v. I’ve just let the movie play though yet again. It is due back tonight. It wont make it back to Hollywood Video on time. I sit on my balcony and drink a large americano (espresso with hot water) and attempt to read some of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Yet between lines of Shakespeare I am distracted from looking at the tree nearby, exploded as it is with light green leaves, and turning to look at my t.v. to catch favorite parts of the movie. When Amelie is mixing the flour, near the end of the movie, and she imagines the object of her affection stealing upon her with all the tender romance of her innocent heart, I must stop my balcony activities and watch. Who hasn’t had such thoughts, such longings, such imagined fantasies within their mind? When she realizes that the sound was just her cat, tears running down her face, my heart breaks in rememberance. Why on earth do I cry as I do while watching this movie? What cauldron of emotions does this magnificent work of art provoke? Bursting with joy, bursting with the same emotions that I feel whenever I listen to the complete Beethoven’s 9th and arrive at the final “Ode to Joy”, the feelings is… hope. And I think, perhaps this is a reason why I go to coffee shops instead of drinking my coffee at home, that instead of staying “in here” I force myself to go “out there” and in such hopes is the possibility of meeting “her”. As to my question earlier on why I believe in true love, though it runs counter to my philosophy, I am reminded of a section read from Hamlet, “there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” It is with great hope and ignorance that I hold that there are bigger things than can fit into m too small mind, that among them is the truth of true love, and the everlasting hope that such a truth will find me.

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