The Choice

“We will be friends forever, won’t we?”, he asked

“I guess … although ….”, she trailed off.

Although, what ?

“You will break my heart some day, you know, more than once “, she said, smiling through sudden tears.

“That’s not possible- ” he began to protest.

“Oh you will … you’ll see. You won’t know it, and you may not mean it, but you will.”

“But it won’t matter,” she thought. … it won’t change a thing.”

The half forgotten conversation now came back to her, the memory as clear as it was yesterday. It had been lighthearted banter, almost in another life. But even then, unacknowledged as it was, she had known. Had known that he was in so deep that the slightest twist could inflict damage. She had probably hoped she was being fanciful, that it would never happen, but that was like wishing that the music would never stop. As if sun wouldn’t go down when it’s work was done. But the song, no matter how beautiful has to end, the the sun no matter how fiery, has to rest.

And so we fool ourselves into believing that we are different, that the heartbreak will pass us by, and that somehow, just somehow, we will be the exception to the rule.

Perhaps that is a good thing, after all. For then we would not love, would we? We would not accidentally let someone into those secret places no one should see.

“Well,” she thought ruefully, she had been right. She had a choice to make again, today. Her mind told her ruefully, as it always had “you can walk away, you know, it is never too late.” And she knew she had the strength to walk away if she really needed to. Somewhere inside, she had what it would take, to survive without him. “Friends come and go, don’t they.”, a little voice whispered.

If you had asked her what drew her to him so, she could not tell you. Perhaps it was his reluctant innocence and fierce resolve, the somewhat prickly sweetness and hidden laughter that she had always seen, where others saw defiance and self indulgence. And a capacity to love that had taken her by surprise. Could she turn away from that?

Life takes us down many paths and none of them are easy. We make our choices at every turn, some impulsively, some in a split second and some after agonising over them for months. After that, all we can possibly do, is our best to live with the consequences, whatever they are.

When she was a child, she had a favourite book, that she had read so many times that the pages were worn and faded. It was called “The thorn birds”, the title based on its namesake, the Thornbirds, who, as the legend goes, would impale themselves on a thorn and sing until they bled to death. It was a story of helpless, inevitable love, but a love so strong it weathered untold pain, hardship and betrayal and eventually, redemption. She did not know why the story called to her so, but she wept over the young, innocent girl who made an impossible choice and then lived with it as a woman.

Opening ourselves to the possibility of getting hurt is probably the hardest choice of them all. And betrayal comes in many forms. An act, a word, a thought, or worse, without a thought. And at the heart of that, is also is a choice made.

We are weak where we love, after all, she thought. Can we teach ourselves to stop loving ? A dear friend, a child or a lover, from whom we are estranged ? Perhaps. But there is a perverse kind of strength there, and courage. Courage to be vulnerable, to accept, to nurture and to give. To experience the most incredible joy and soul defining passion that such love can bring, you must be brave after all. Perhaps even stupid.

Maybe then, it is not weakness after all. Even stupid can be strong.

The deepest love can endure the worst kind of betrayal, a few thoughtless and unkind words can wound, but not kill. We don’t die like the Thornbird, we can go on.

So she made her choice, once again. She would choose love, and the hurt that comes with it. But also the immeasurable joy, that incredible feeling of connection. It wasn’t a choice after all. It was as inevitable as daybreak. And living.