Would you rather meet the love of your life, knowing he or she will die within a year, or go without meeting him/her?



Question of the Day: Would you rather meet the love of your life, knowing he or she will die within a year, or go without meeting him/her? Explain.

Answer: This is both a great and kind of a depressing question. I would rather meet the love of my life knowing he will die within a year than go without ever meeting him. And I guess this kind of goes back to that classic saying: It is better to love and have lost than to have never loved at all. 

Here are samples of this theme from great films and books.

The Time Traveler's Wife 


“Don't you think it's better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?” 
 Audrey Niffenegger

Goodwill Hunting

Will: I don't care if Helen of Troy walks in the room, that's Game 6!
Sean: Oh, Helen of Troy...
Will: Oh my God; and who are these fuckin' friends of yours, they let you get away with that?
Sean: Oh... they had to.
Will: W-w-w-what'd you say to them?
Sean: I just slid my ticket across the table, and I said, "Sorry, guys; I gotta see about a girl."
Will: I gotta go see about a girl?
Sean: Yeah.
Will: That's what you said? And they let you get away with that?
Sean: Oh, yeah. They saw in my eyes that I meant it.
Will: You're kiddin' me.
Sean: No, I'm not kiddin' you, Will. That's why I'm not talkin' right now about some girl I saw at a bar twenty years ago and how I always regretted not going over and talking to her. I don't regret the 18 years I was married to Nancy. I don't regret the six years I had to give up counseling when she got sick. And I don't regret the last years when she got really sick. And I sure as hell don't regret missin' the damn game. That's regret. 


And I love this scene as well.

Sean: Thought about what you said to me the other day. About my painting.
Will: Oh
Sean: Stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me. I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep and haven't thought about you since. You know what occurred to me?
Will: No
Sean: You're just a kid. You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.
Will: Why, thank you.
Sean: It's all right. You've never been out of Boston.
Will: Nope
Sean: So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny... on every art book ever written. Michelangelo? You know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations. Him and the pope. Sexual orientation. The whole works, right? I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seeing that. If I ask you about women, you'll probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman... and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. I ask you about war, you'd probably ah throw Shakespeare at me, right? "Once more into the breach, dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap... and watched him gasp his last breath lookin' to you for help. If I asked you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet, but you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes. Feelin' like God put an angel on Earth just for you, who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her be there forever. Through anything. Through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleepin' sittin' up in a hospital room... for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes... that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause that only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself. I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. I look at you. I don't see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine. You ripped my fuckin' life apart. You're an orphan, right? Do you think that I'd know the first thing about how hard your life has been - how you feel, who you are - because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don't give a shit about all that, because - You know what? I can't learn anything from you... I can't read in some fuckin' book. Unless you wanna talk about you, who you are. And I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't wanna do that, do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief. 


What about you?
Would you rather meet the love of your life, knowing he or she will die within a year, or go without meeting him/her? Explain. 

Blog to you later! 
Love, 
Manders

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