“It’s morning, it is morning, and there is so much to see.” – Gemma Doyle, The Sweet Far Thing
I didn’t go to Coral Reef today because I thought I wouldn’t have the energy since I pulled an all-nighter last night. I am lethargic, at the moment, but the sleepiness takes a back-seat to my tears. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I’m crying again, this time over a manga– “Absolute Boyfriend” by Yuu Watase. The story sort of resembles Chobits, except the robot is a boy, not a girl, and minus the funny ear-things.
I think I’m a total hypocrite when I say that I can’t take perfect boys. Night Tenjou, the robot-boyfriend in Absolute Boyfriend (Zettai Kareshi in Japanese), is perfect, because perfect is in his programming. But what makes him the most perfect is perhaps his glitch: he overrides his programming to pour real love into an indecisive, shy, and sometimes selfish girl–Riiko.
But that’s not what makes me cry. You see–I’ll spoil the whole manga for you–Night dies in the end. His programming only had a limited life-span, and as soon as he and Riiko “consummated” their relationship…well…he’d fought for his love (literally hand-to-hand combat with all sorts of robots and such from the crazy Kronos Heaven company that made him, sending “assassins” in a strange attempt to get rid of an outdated model and replace it with a new one.) one too many times. His time was up.
He starts sleeping all the time, acts really tired. But he still goes out with Riiko and cooks for her and laughs and smiles as usual. Until one day, Riiko goes out, leaving him to fall asleep on the couch.
Before she leaves, Night says, “I love you, forever.” Riiko, who has been repeating those oaths daily since Kronos Heaven gave up on “hunting” Night, responds with a kiss. She leaves to go shopping, and Night falls asleep on the couch.
He doesn’t wake up. He knew that day was the day.
A few months later–allowing Riiko time to calm down from the pain–Soshi, her childhood friend and Night’s primary rival for her affections, visits to deliver Night’s final message to her: “Don’t cry anymore.”
Gee, thanks, I don’t think I could stop now.
I’m not looking for a love like that, for someone to tell me they will love me forever, because humans don’t have the luxury of forever. Just like toys, robot boyfriends, and the like, we die. And besides, God will love me forever, which is a pretty good deal with me.
I’m just saying this – sometimes the best love stories have to have sort of tragic endings. Like The Sweet Far Thing. Because, you see, the one you love won’t always be there forever. The point – the tough point – is to get up and move forward again, until the memories stop holding you back.
I’m reading P.S. I Love You right now, which is pretty much drenching myself in the theme of sad love stories. I can’t help it, it’s an addiction. It’s this needing to cry over something that isn’t real, because those kinds of stories – those kinds of epic loves – are only stories.
I don’t have a Night, or a Kartik (because I don’t think I could see myself with, no offense, a robot and a fatalistic runaway-slash-fake gypsy), but I have that thing that the girls they left behind do: a command to move forward, with each step. To cry when I may, but to move constantly onward.
Tragedy teaches you that, so find the strength to love again. Don’t “restart”, as the Jonas Brothers song goes (Hold On), but keep the memories locked up in your memory banks, and find that love multiplies, an everlasting supply…while tears dry up, eventually.