I used to think that beauty was immortal, and timeless. A certain sort of beauty is that way; you feel that it can make time stand still, and that if you were to look at it again decades from now, you'd feel exactly the same way.
Just today, though, I came across a portrait on a website I have often spoken about; this image was an advertising image for, of all things, a site that specializes in weddings. "This is your bride!" read the caption. I was riveted. It showed a beautiful girl dressed as a bride, in very conventional style! She was blonde, she was radiant; and for the first time in years, the image made me want to be a man.
Somehow, though, the image spoke to me of unbearable sorrow; as though we would be amazingly happy, but only briefly; that we could not stand each other, and that the only solution for us would be death!
I'm not normally a dramatic, or melodramatic person; I don't have thoughts of death at all, and certainly not often. But the very beauty of this girl spoke of great disappointment. It's even painful to recall.
There were lots of reasons I should not have liked the image; the girl was a very formulaic 'cheerleader' type, well endowed, charming, confident, the dress was a sexy tiered dress, embroidered with rhinestones; every detail was perfect—but not the details I would have chosen. She was petite; and I usually preferred girls a little bit taller, with darker hair! But this image seemed to insist that this was my life's partner, and that our marriage would be perfectly tragic.
Well, have a nice day.
Kay
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