Yesterday a friend confessed to me that he was in Love. Utterly, hopelessly in love. You can see it in his sleepless eyes, his bedraggled hair, his unkept clothes and most apparently in his 'dazzling' smile. He cannot think of anything but her and yet he's happy.
I was mystified by his narration. This she-being must be somewhat the Helen of Troy! But that was all part of Homer's poetry. This is no epic tale.. this is cruel, often unfair, terribly unrelenting life! To think that a friend of mine, who I so dearly admired a lifetime ago, can tell me that this woman might be the ONE for him (and he sounded absolutely sure!).. is one proof of how unfair life is.
He'd known her for what, 2 months? A month ago we were talking of career, opportunities.. problems. And now his views are totally reformed! He's bright and shiny.. a renewed man! I am appalled but who am I to criticize love? If this is love, then I guess I've never been in love! And if this is what love does to a person, then forget it, as soon as I see the signs, I'd start running in the opposite direction..
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