The Wait House

“And then I thought, what if there is no one? What if you live your whole life and no one is waiting? So I drove to the lake house looking for any kind of answer. And I found you. And I let myself get lost. Lost in this beautiful fantasy where time stood still. But it’s not real, Alex. I have to learn to live the life that I have got. Please don’t write anymore. Don’t try to find me. Let me let you go.”

– Kate Forrester (The Lake House)

And there I was, all warm and fuzzy inside, thinking to myself, what a totally respectable story this was. Much kudos goes to the writer for such an amazing job. And as I sat there watching the shrewd turn of events come into play, I hear the voice inside my head telling myself, God, why am I such a sucker for movies that revolve around the possibility of true romance?

Not since the emergence of Serendipity has there been a romantic movie that made me want to believe in soul mates. The Lake House does that to you. In the movie’s premise, two people, from literally two different times, meet in the most unconventional way. As with all typical chick flicks, they fall in love without even realizing it. But due to certain uncontrollable circumstances, the two are left waiting for four years before they finally got their chance to be with each other. One could not possibly deny that these two characters were pre-destined to spend the rest of their lives together, what with all that waiting.

When you’ve hardened yourself like I have to all forms of human emotion, you tend to become numb, and eventually you turn stoic and cynical. You shut out everyone else’s outlooks and opinions and form your own belief system. It’s exactly these kinds of movies that challenge those beliefs.

I don’t believe in soul mates. But sometimes, especially after watching these sappy kinds of chick flicks, it’s nice to think that somewhere in this gargantuan planet is actually a special someone just for you. Two people so singled out by destiny and fate to wind up being with each other, no matter how long it took. Four years is not a hindrance for the grand design of the Cosmos. If the two of you were pre-destined, then you’re meant to be. In one way or another, at some point in time, no matter how long the wait, you would end up in each other’s arms.

The idea of having a soul mate is nice. It’s pleasant. It’s ideal. But it’s surreal. It isn’t life. In life, it is pointless to wait for such a long time, and for what? For hope? For two people to keep on waiting for that one miraculous day when they haplessly bump into each other by kismet, and significantly change their lives the moment they lay eyes upon the other, is simply preposterous. Waiting is one of the most excruciating types of pain. To subject one’s self to such is no act of self-preservation, but a cruel ride to a slow and lonely death.

Maybe it’s not the possibility that I’m drawn to, but the tragedy. Because true romance is fleeting, and it doesn’t happen in real life. Somehow, while crossing through the bonds of reality and imagination, true romance loses its essence. And what we’re left with… is mere fantasy. It is what it is – tragic.

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~ by iamnotfrodo on June 11, 2007.

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