milan kundera should write this

The moment when one of the lovers says, "I'm coming home," that is the moment when the orchestra starts to crescendo, and the sky starts to rain out of relief.  But it is the moment that the story comes to an end, when they have decided to enter into a different kind of story, and one where the sky won't cry very often any more, and the moon becomes a pretty object that sometimes gives off more light than at other times.  When one of them says, "Please don't go, please come back," that's another story altogether, or rather, that is the story.  That moment is the moment they have decided to reinvest it with tension, and frustration, and an untenable, unresolved longing that no one thinks they can bear for very long.  But in truth, perhaps we can, and perhaps those of us who are more given to being poetic and living in metaphor, perhaps we can live with it for all of our lives, or at least make a decision early on to try.  Without those small moments of relief, of course, like the stolen kisses between trains, or a night together in a strange city, and the story would die a horrible death, but would not die as utterly as it would if one or the other decided that it was time to move in together and buy a dog.  Unless they were both extraordinarily smart.  Extraordinarily smart and probably good looking people could probably do it, only they would have to be smart in the same way, and understand that time runs out in the same way, and also understand that every window eventually falls shut in the same direction.  And nature does not like to create lovers who are that same kind of smart, not at the same time and place, because that would no longer be a tragic love story, or an epic love story with a happy end, but something else entirely, something that would resemble something like a revolution. 

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