Unrequited Love...

I watched Closer tonight, and one scene struck me. When Clive Owen is telling Natalie Portman that he loves her...when he's only met her once. She doesn't love him, she doesn't even know him.

I began to wonder if one can love someone--truly--if that person doesn't love you back. If you do happen to fall in love with someone who doesn't return your love, are you really in love with that person, or just an ideal? I don't think it would be pleasant or even useful to love an ideal...in fact, it seems almost as fruitless as declaring war on an ideal.

Unfortunately, love, like politics, lends itself to such flights of passion where even the most rational and thoughtful person finds himself alone, pining for what he cannot have.

And so, I throw myself into books and photos and art and music and try to fill the void with artificial emotions of the artists who share those feelings I cannot or do not get elsewhere...thus, Closer.