Hercules

When I was a high school junior I watched the Disney movie "Hercules" with my friends. What I remembered most was the moment I can point to as the start of my propensity to memorize all the memorable movie lines I can and to use them as often as possible.
A guy friend was sitting next to me. The only reason he sat next to me is because he wanted me to be a buffer. This girl he liked (also another friend) sat to my left and he sat to my right. I don't think he saw the movie at all - except towards the end. If you've seen Hercules (and have a memory for lines - like I do), towards the end of the movie the hero asks Meg (the heroine, in Greek mythology Maegara) why she did what she did (jump in front of a falling massive column that would have pulverized Hercules) and she answers, "People do crazy things when they're in love."
It's a gag-worthy moment for those of you who hate sentimental mush. But I remember it most not because of the line, but because my friend (the guy) said under his breath, "Yeah. People DO crazy things when they're in love."
Okay. Back in high school, the concept of love wasn't as foreign to us as when we were in elementary. Gone were the days where we defined love as God. Or like a rosary, filled with mysteries. We started going beyond its slum- (or slam? in more ways than one) book definition.
With the advent of Dawson's Creek, we sort of learned that love wasn't all that pretty - although it had a pretty good soundtrack. We kind of had an idea that love entailed sacrifices and it's not all butterflies in your stomach (which I always thought was another gastric attack). Some of my friends have gone through the drama of getting dumped through a badly written letter or more ceremoniously, in public. I know of one classmate who drank gasoline when his girlfriend broke up with him. According to rumors, when the girl found out about it (as our high school was pretty small) she told him that he should have drunk muriatic acid instead. Pretty helpful, wasn't she? After that incident (the whole "friendly advice"), he was thought to have gone to our unfinished third floor to jump to his death. I have no idea if he ever did.
And after having endless conversations about the L-word over coffee, beer, and Tequila in Starbucks, cramped boarding houses and on the rooftop with a jacuzzi I wonder how it took most of my friends 4 years to realize that the idea of love we had when we were in high school never included strength. When you're 16, it seemed as if they were two mutually exclusive ideals. I used to think people who actually WANTED to be in love were wimps. Something along the lines of what that girl in "Hitch" said: "Relationships are for people who are waiting for something better to come along."
I have always been portrayed (by friends who know me best) as the strongest person they know. These are people who saw me cry when Bambi died. These are people who tease me the next morning because they heard me crying when I was reading a romance novel. These are people who grew up with me (in various stages) and saw me shed tears when I read that the stickers PS I Love You can be both Palm Springs I Love You and Paul Strobe (amazing! I still remember the name!) I Love You.
All those tears and I was still strong. I never cried when it counted. I don't cry in grief or sadness. Loneliness is an alien concept to me. I have an answer for everything. I kind of believe in the idea of soulmates and destiny - but only because I like the movie Serendipity. I make bargains with the universe using my love life or rather, the chance that I might have one as a chip.
So what prompted me to write something that spanned 2 hours of my life when I was in high school to a conversation I just had with someone who shall remain nameless? It's this supposed idea of strength. Does it really fall flat in the face of love? And here I thought I was going to be a convert to the Albus Dumbledore philosophy that love is the power that the Dark Lord knows (or has) not?
I just had to insert an HP reference... sigh...
And so in closing, I guess I had the answer (wrong or right) all along. "A hero is not measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart." Hmmm.... Gives you something to think about some more.