“Mona wanted to be someone’s best friend more than anything in the world. It was a little pathetic; but then sometimes it made Amy a lot happier than she wanted to admit.” – This Must Be the Place, Kate Racculia
I read those words over and over.
I was stuck in the library after a community service event my group held there and while I was waiting for the potential danger of being stuck, without a ride, in a public library, in Stockton (2nd most dangerous city in California, 10th in America) to fully sink in, I picked up a random book from the fiction section labeled “R” (I was looking for Rowling), sat down, and read. It was hard for me to get through the first page, not that it was badly written, a bit wordy for my taste, but the reviews were favorable so I suppose the writing was all right, still, I couldn’t seem to make it past those words. It was hard for me to focus on much else other than the reasoning behind my sudden intrigue.
So I broke it down:
“Mona wanted to be someone’s best friend more than anything in the world.” – I could relate to that. I too wanted that. Something about being needed by someone completely platonically is oddly appealing. There’s more to it though. It’s being trusted with another’s feelings and secrets. In lots of ways you’re a giant part of another’s life without being their whole life. You’re reliable and constant, but, most importantly, irreplaceable. Can’t anyone see the seductiveness of that? Of being irreplaceable?
“… It was a little pathetic;” – Well, I could see that too. It is a symptom of most things I do. And I can see how it could be viewed in that way. Wanting to be loved in that particular way so incredibly much that it visibly shows is a bit pathetic. I can imagine how Mona could have acted to be seen in that way; a bit overly excited when hanging out, possibly a little too eager to help Amy, and maybe too often ready to be entrusted with a secret. She was probably, all in all, a bit overbearing and she probably was aware of it, and yet, still unable to prevent it from seeming “pathetic”. I can understand that. It’s extremely hard to change someone’s opinion of you in the midst of a relationship. It’s much more difficult to suppress an action of love when you have so much to give out. But why suppress an act of love when you know it will make you happy? Why suppress it if you know it will make the other feel loved? Because it seems pathetic?
“…but then sometimes it made Amy a lot happier than she wanted to admit.” – Ah, so it ended on a good note. I really liked that. For some reason it made me feel indirectly appreciated and weirdly smug. Everyone loves to be loved, I do probably more than most, and I felt like the statement paid homage to that. It said to me, “Your love will always be appreciated” and that satisfied me. I think that is what most people wait for throughout their lives, for their love to be appreciated and acknowledged. And in the moment I felt smug because in my heart somewhere I knew that I was, although it may not always be in the way I desire. Just as Amy appreciated and loved Mona for loving her and making her feel wanted even if sometimes it was a bit of an overkill.
Because, you see…
when you add up all those small pathetic seeming happinesses, that’s a Whole Lotta Happy that others will never know.