Wuthering Heights!

If I could go back and unsee that film, I honestly would. It hurt me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. And what made it worse was not letting myself cry properly because I had plans afterwards. I held it all in, sat there composed, pretending I wasn’t unravelled. I’ve made up for it since!! the tears came eventually! but the aftermath has lingered. Some people will understand that kind of ache. Others will think I’m being dramatic. I don’t really mind which.

I know it’s toxic love. I understand that. But putting the label aside, what pierced me was the rawness of loving someone so deeply you feel as though you might not survive without them. That desperate, consuming attachment. It captures something painfully true about the way many women love! how all in we go, how we either love with our entire bodies or not at all. God even writing this makes my chest tighten.

Yes, it’s destructive. Yes, it’s unhealthy. But within it there’s this portrayal of protection of a man’s presence feeling solid, claiming, almost primal. And that hurt me too. Because I’ve only ever had small glimpses of what that kind of protection feels like. Just Moments. and as a healer one needs or better yet deserves a protector because a healer is a protector and that's why it hits deep!

And then there’s the intimacy. Not just sex! but being chosen, being desired, being met fully. That intensity of being made love to in a way that feels consuming and reverent all at once. I realised I can’t even properly remember what that feels like anymore. And the craving for it! for all of it! is almost unbearable. It frightens me how much I want something that powerful.

It felt less like watching a film and more like breaking up with a fantasy. Or perhaps realising how deeply I’ve always loved the fantasy of that kind of love. I’ve genuinely felt as though I’ve been grieving it. Proper grief. Tears and all. There’s even shame in it! shame for still believing in overwhelming, once-in-a-lifetime love, while trying to be sensible and realistic at the same time.

I almost want it to stop! the longing, the intensity, the belief. i feel like ive been sold a lie growing up to the point i wanted to blame my nan for buying me so many love stories from Blockbusters! its not her fault of course.

And the most unsettling part is that this story isn’t entirely fiction. I know people who have lived versions of it. I’ve seen it up close. Which makes it harder to dismiss as mere drama.

For a lover girl like me! and for the lover girls I’m lucky enough to know! it’s a tragic film. Not because it’s unrealistic. But because it reminds you just how deeply you’re capable of feeling. And how much that depth can both elevate you and undo you at the very same time.

Was that or was that not alot to takee in hahaha!! i feel so deeply! you could never get me too watch a scary movie id lose way to much sleep! LOL

So my short review on it:

Monstrous, diabolical, possessed, beautiful, shocking, unbelievably horny, yearning, gothic, funny, tragic, breathtaking.

l've never been in a cinema and heard so many gasps of shock and pleasure. Audible sobs at the conclusion- my own included. The score is gorgeous and gloomy.

And this Quote! "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

-Dagger to the heart!

You've been Warned!

Nothing But Love, Love.... Love!

T xoxo