Like half the world did when it came out, I rushed to the movies to watch Titanic, paid $9 for the ticket at the time, dropped $10 in popcorn and soda, just so I could spend the next two hours waiting for the inevitable. Even though we all know how the story goes, for some stupid reason I kept thinking that maybe this time the boat would stay afloat and they would live happily ever after. And when it sunk, it almost took me by surprise.
I read Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Chronicle Of A Death Foretold during my teenage years. I refused to believe that Santiago would die in the end, despite the fact that the book opens with him being murdered by the Vicario brothers. There are so many opportunities throughout the novel for members of the community to come forward and avoid the tragedy that I forgot the man was dead and hoped someone would to set the whole thing straight.
And so my relationships with men are doomed in a similar way, done before they ever began. On a positive note I guess, that doesn’t deter me from trying and has helped me develop the unique skill of enjoying an incipient relationship while simultaneously mourning its end. Because the relationship -pick one- is going to fail. It might take a couple of weeks, a few months, sometimes even years, but it will sink, or I will kill it. One way or another, it’s going to die.
- Euzko-Etxea of New York will celebrate its 100th anniversary this year, October 7-14, 2013
- 24-hour pickup