That is what the Great Gatsby von F. Scott Fitzgerald has taught me:
Jay Gatsby, a poor boy who is dreaming of his big love. Separated through the class distinction. He works until he becomes a millionaire. She is always his goal. He would throw exaggerate big parties like you only could seen it in the 1920s. Always with the hope she would arrive.
One day she did and so they began to rebound and start an affair. Levitating through pomp and circumstance. She is lovely but cruel. One time she drives drunk and kills a woman. Gatsby takes the blame.
All he desired to hear are only two sentences:“I love Gatsby and want to restart a new life with him only" Her saying those words in front of her then husband. But she never say those words.
By the end she decides to leave him without him knowing, in the Last minute he dies, He awaits a call from her saying those words without knowing that would never happen, one last time he's hearing the phone ringing.
The husband of the woman who was killed in the Car accident would shot him while he awaits the call from her saying those words full of Euphoria. The sad thing: it's not even her that calls.
No one arrives at his funeral. Not the guests, Not the Great love, the many guests who did not personally know the host out of sheer ignorance, in part invited themselves, simple-minded continued with their lives as if nothing had happened. A man can fall and not a speck of dust stirs.
I have always been a happy and conscious lone fighter. Love is a beautiful puddle on which a rainbow is reflected, but it is also as deep as an ocean that devours you. Unpredictable whether you drown or swim. Some say it is an illusion to preach morality and reason.
My theory: There is no such thing as great love.
You can have a child and be happily married. You can love, you can love someone else too, so that's not the problem. Returning to the problem is just how long?
We humans are adaptable. No matter what situation we are in, we learn to accept it and adapt. But, ever noticed that our brain constantly brainwashed in which we accept memory but did not take place or are different than we retrieve them. Nothing is and remains original. You are not the same person after two months. You can still love him after a thousand years, but one day logic will tell you something else.
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