After taking three plus hours of my day to travel back in time and revisit "The Titanic" along its infamous journey on the cold Atlantic in 1912, and having the pleasure of gazing into the lives of two unlikely lovers, who found a passionate peace in the mist unforeseen madness, I began to wonder if the strongest love between two people is bounded by the things they hate, or is the best love welded together by the rescue?
On the Titanic the hatred that surrounded the lovers was easy to spot. For her, Rose DeWitt Bukater, the thing she despised the most was the lack of autonomy in her life. She was agitated by the push she felt from family that pressured her to hide their financial burdens under a cloak of deception, which she was told had to be strapped on tightly and worn from sunup to sunset. Its design was cut out for her to live a fictitious life that was completely planned out for her; a life that boldly chose her husband, her meals, and decided who she could and couldn't be friends with. Her lack of decision making in her own life put a bitter taste in her mouth, and as I watched her swallow this bitterness, I could sense that its taste was poisoning her ever so slowly. Soon, it was apparent that Rose would either die or looked to be saved.
Then she met Jack, the penniless orphan who hadn't felt any constraints in life, and she was instantly drawn to him. She was attracted to the freedom that he wore like a badge of honor on his chest, despite the fact that his freedom was carved out of a positive outlook of poverty. Rose never breathed a word of this to me, but I feel certain that she had made up in her mind that she was going to embrace poor Jack the moment she met him. Why? I'm certain that it's because Rose had a longing to embrace and love what was lost in herself, and she was aware that true survival could only come if a person feels complete.
I wonder how many lovers hook up for the same reasons. I don't think I've ever looked at man and said, "Wow! This guy possesses the internal qualities that I'm missing in my life. If I hold on to him, he can save me from disaster. If I love him, I will become a more complete being. His sexy way of reflecting the things I lack is really a turn on!" No, not ever have I said this. Instead, I usually find myself first attracted to the height, the smile, and the eyes of man. Afterwards, I'm interested in how well he can carry on a conversation about whatever. Next, I almost always search him over for the things most like myself. And what I've found, after talking to many friends and associates about the matter, is that I am not alone.
How insane is this? Should singles not search so hard for common traits in a mate, and more so look for the things that they aren't comfortable with inside of themselves in another? Would this make them happier beings and therefore more apt to have that unbreakable, undeniable, and everlasting love that not even a Titanic could sink?
