about the long-gone love.

Just finished watching the latest episode of “Desperate Housewives”. And here I am, rushing straightly to drop down the scene that impresses me:

Orson has made up his mind to commit suicide as he’s lost the willpower to fight against the paralyzed life on a wheelchair. Before he actions Bree found out his intention and they were arguing about whether love still exists between them. Bree wasn’t able to answer the question “do you still love me” directly(That’s the exact thing that I admire about Bree, she never lies, even a white one). And for the last time of this type of conversation, just after she stopped Orson’s attempt of rolling himself into a pool, she was asked the same question again. And it’s the answer she gave that touches me:

“I loved you once, can I love you again? I don’t know. But I would like to recapture what we once had, and we’re not going to do that if you’re not here. So, I’m asking you, please stay.”

So what I appreciate of Bree, is the gut to admit that love has been lost, and the gut to embrace it for the second time with the same person.

True, love can be fluid, and everyone in it has to be prepared for those tough times. But sadly, very few ever have, or even intend to overcome those times when they get there. And when I reflect on myself in the relationships I ever had, I wouldn’t blame myself for not trying hard enough. (sadly, I’m always the one being let go of.) But that’s also the very thing that I should be blamed, that I’ve always been trapped in a self-built prison and waiting for the other one to let me go, as I’ve never had the courage to admit the brutal fact that, something is gone, something used to be love.