I always cry at the end of Amelie. Always. Without giving it away (shame on you if you haven't watched the movie), there is something about the final scene - the joy, the energy, the love, the humor - that is so beautiful it brings me to tears. They're not sad tears, not really, but there is an element of pain to the feeling. Pain is the wrong word... longing perhaps? Whatever it is, I watch the scene, and I wish I could feel the way the characters do in that moment. Their complete happiness is so beautiful it hurts.
I don't get the feeling often, but when I do, it lingers for a while. It colors my outlook, casting this slight melancholy tint on things that, on any other day, would be considered unremarkably normal.
This morning, I got the feeling. A friend passed along an old New Yorker short story, and I read it over a latte at a cafe down the street. When I looked up from the page, the tears stung in my eyes. But, in a rush to make it to work on time, I couldn't dwell on my reaction. Now, hours of brooding behind my computer later, I know it's here. So what to do?
Well, for starters, I took care to lift my spirits today. I got gelato during lunch. Called a friend who lives in another state. Bought tickets to see a movie. Made plans to check out some apartments this weekend. Looking ahead, I hope to: finally move out of my house, fully explore new job prospects, and pick up my guitar again.
Truthfully, I'm not sure if complete happiness is attainable (or if it is, whether it's sustainable). No matter. It's worth a try.
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