After watching Wilde with Stephen Fry. It was ten years ago or even more. My friend, a professional psychoanalyst, was trying to give me advice but couldnt find words to express herself. Suddenly she realized something and said: - Oh yes, now I understand whats the problem! You confuse love with care. I couldnt understand for a moment what she was saying. It was so evident for me that there is no love in this world above caring. - No, I dont confuse. I am just absolutely convinced that this is the only one kind of love that deserves being called love. All the rest is... well, obsession, need, dependency, etc, etc... name it. Caring about another person with proper respect is the only one kind of love that may be called love. Since then I am trying to understand what was the meaning of her words. What else can be called love except caring and respect? We are not teenagers, right? We are not talking about sleepless nights. I mean, really. I still dont know why she said that I confuse love with care. And I still think that this is the same thing. This movie is sad, beautiful and very deep. It is about love - meaning caring.
Posted on: Sun, 20 Apr 2014 17:57:03 +0000