One of the earliest childhood memories I have is dancing with my mother to one of her favorite songs. It's funny that I can't remember the song at all. I remember everything else. The clothes she'd wear or how she smelled. How I used to be so small I could stand on her feet while she danced. Yet for the life of me I can't remember the song. This was back when I still cared for my mother.
Now I know what you are asking yourselves. When I loved my mother. Must think horrible of me for not loving the own woman who bore me. Oh, but if you know the whole story. How mother was once faithful as one can be. Then one day was found guilty of adultery. No one knows of this though. Father wanted to keep it a secret, which is the only reason he stayed with her. "Cause to much suspicion to just suddenly part from her" he said matter of factly. Like it was no big deal. Like it was no big deal my mother broke what was supposedly one of the most holy oaths their can be. I never understood how my father could just shrug off such a thing.
Now that I'm older I think I understand. Marriage isn't about love, no, it's about power. The higher up you marry the more power you have. This is why my father never told anyone of my mother's unfaithfulness. Foolishly I thought he was trying to save her the embarrassment. Not until I've started to get older did I realize he was only thinking of himself. It would only look bad on him. Oh, I can just imagine what people would whisper behind his back, because the cowards would never say it to his face. How he has become too old to fulfill certain woman's needs. The whole idea that marriage is for love is laughable.
This is why I pity my dear friend Romeo. Getting this depressed over a girl. Yet at the same time I feel anger at him. Can't explain why though. The only reason is because maybe he really is upset about Rosaline. Because he still is naïve enough to believe the lies were told about the 'joys of marriage.' I think that is what irritates me the most. He still can go on living with the childish notion that we each have a soul mate waiting for us. Part of me pities the fool. Yet a small part of me, the part of me I really hate, long to be like him. Still naïve when it comes to matters of the heart.