It was late afternoon last week when sitting outside writing in my journal at an attempt to describe those people and objects around me. The afternoon had been very hot and a cool change, a soft wind, soon made the area more comfortable. It seemed I had been writing a long time, looking at the sky turn crimson, when I noticed two young people half laying on the grass and gazing into each other's eyes.
There is no doubt that I was observing "young love", reminding me of a sentimental scene from some forty's film.
As a writing exercise, I tried to describe both their emotions and body language.
Then, the boy appeared to say something to the young woman, who promptly stood up, turned away, and walked in the opposite direction. The young man called after her, but she did not respond to his apologies and exited through the door.
The boy appeared upset and followed her as she walked away.
Oh, the games we play in love!
What I found interesting was how sudden their mood changed from a love scene to a "lover's spat."
Sometimes I miss how intense young love feels but quickly recall the pain it brings. Is it worth it? Sometimes I don't think so; other times, the passion makes me wonder if the trouble was justified.
"It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." as the saying goes.
Looking back, for me at least, it was worth the trouble, because thankfully, the heart is a resilient muscle.
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