I went to see "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", which I enjoyed a lot, notwithstanding the fact that the conclusion was positive inasmuch as the protagonists ended up staying together, but slightly melancholic nonetheless: they just gave themselves another chance at learning to hate each other all over again. They did have the benefit of not remembering why they hated each other the first time around, which gives them a clean(ish) slate to start over, but they also had the certain knowledge that they will, eventually, feel that way, because neither of them seemed to contemplate the possibility that they could change or learn from the past. I had the impression that was the case despite the song (Everybody has to learn some time) being played at the very end. I think this to be very true - you do not tend to change, mostly because many of us are unable to (or do not choose to) reflect very much on ourselves and our actions, and even if we do, analyzing yourself and how you are perceived in intimate situations rarely impacts upon our actions. I like to think of myself as a very reflective person and yet I will relive certain objectively unpleasant and (self-)destructive scenarios over and over again despite knowing better. Of course, in these situations there is always the other one, whose actions you can rarely influence in any meaningful way, at least not in the situations that matter. So really, based on this analysis, I should not feel that it would do me any good if we really were able to erase certain memories, because ultimately it would not make any difference. The sadder thing is, when you exist in certain relationships and as soon as they end, or shortly afterwards, it is as if they were erased because you did not feel much while you were in them to begin with.

Another movie I have seen recently was "Before Sunset", (sequel to "Before Sunrise", which in my memory, was a slightly annoying, pseudo-intellectual kitsch) in which the female protagonist has a monologue that I could really identify with. She was talking about how in the year between the ages of 23 and 33 she had been screwed over so many times, but not because men mistreated her, but rather because despite the apparently sincere emotions she would get she could feel nothing: no anger or hatred, let alone love or true affection; no deep emotions of any sort. It sounds corny, but rings very true to me when she says that there is nothing worse than feeling lonely with someone beside you. I kind of knew that instinctively when I was younger and less experienced, but forgot it it for so many years when I was constantly trying to be in a relationship, any relationship, just because I was afraid to remember it. Now that I have spent all this time essentially on my own (being close to strangers in the unreal, rented life of the traveller does not mean you are not on your own) I have remembered it and I have also remembered that I actually like my own company enough to be on my own for a while. I would rather take a few moments with someone who makes me feel SOMETHING, whether it is unbelievable tenderness or anger and frustration than be in a relationship which makes me feel like I am still on Seroxat. (Not to say that I would not erase some of these memories in my lucid moments from time to time thereby giving it another futile chance perhaps...my "dear friend", if you read this, then you should know that I am thinking of you).