“I’m so pathetically intense I just can’t be any other way.”
Those are words passed down to us from the late poet Sylvia Plath. Some would call her the original yearner … or I guess I would call her that.
To love, to be loved, to speak, to die – these are the questions, these are the thought starters of a generation that’s seemingly incapable of, well, feeling. Situationships, talking stages … friends with benefits. It’s as if we’re all running from something. It’s the fear of commitment for some of us, unhealed trauma for others. Whatever it is, it’s a handicap and it’s stopping most of us from pursuing real, meaningful romantic connections.
So, the question – the elephant in the room if you will – is: is it better to speak or to die? I know, I know, trust me I know. It’s heavy.
“I hate when people ask things like that in the middle of a normal day,” said Substack writer @iamtiisha. In Tish’s post, “To Die, Obviously,” she reflects on the complexities that come with vulnerability and the quiet self-betrayals we inflict upon ourselves when we don’t verbalize our feelings.
“Now I’m sitting there with my coffee going cold, trying to act like she did not just place a knife on the table and call it a question. Still, I knew. To die. Obviously.”
The phrase “is it better to speak or to die” comes to us from André Aciman’s coming-of-age novel and Luca Guadagnino’s film adaptation “Call Me by Your Name.” We follow protagonist Elio Perlman, played by Timothée Chalamet, in the film as he grapples with whether to confess his love to Oliver, who is played by Armie Hammer, or to bury his feelings and say nothing at all. Through Elio, we come to understand the nuance that exists within deciding whether to bare your soul to another or to let the agonizing silence linger.
Tish says “to die,” which I can imagine is the answer for the majority of young adults today navigating love, heartbreak and loss for the first time. And in all transparency, my instinct is also “to die.” But when I examine the question and all of its remnants alongside who I know myself to be, I’d have to speak and implore those around me to do the same.
If I may be candid and maybe even overshare a little bit here, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that I feel everything on a seismic level. The full spectrum of emotions from despair to immense joy to limerence to even, as OutKast’s “Prototype” says, “ … the rarest of all human emotion, love.” So yes, I have to speak because, for me, withholding that energy is its own kind of dying. It’s the kind of dying that forces you to shrink yourself. It’s the kind of dying that can turn cancerous and stunt your emotional availability if you don’t stop the bleeding.
In conducting my mock case study – that is, this lovely article – I’ve come to realize that for most of us, this burial of emotion and romantic expression isn’t innate. It comes as a consequence of what we deem to be an irreparable incident. Whether that incident is experiencing an unfaithful partner, dealing with rejection or a lack of experience altogether, and the accompanying fear that’s attached to that. Opting for situationships and talking stages over a substantive, passionate relationship where everyone is all in suddenly begins to make sense.
“But what is grief, if not love persevering?” Vision asked in Disney’s “WandaVision.”
Ironically, what a great piece of dialogue for a robot. Nonetheless, he’s right! Grief, sadness and maybe even sorrow are the unfortunate byproducts of the risks we assume when we choose to lead with our hearts. But it’s proof that we’re alive, proof that love and vulnerability had a home inside of you, which is never something to be ashamed of or to sulk over.
To have loved is a beautiful thing.
And as I like to remind myself, loving someone is never a waste. To speak, to say how you feel about someone even when it feels like the manifestation of dying, may be one of the bravest things us humans can do.
“We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster, that we go bankrupt by the age of 30,” said Michael Stuhlbarg in Luca Guadagnino’s “Call Me by Your Name.”
“We have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to make yourself feel nothing so as not to feel anything, what a waste,” he said.
This is one of the most emotionally provocative pieces of dialogue I’ve heard in a film, and if you take nothing else from me, please take this. This is the northern star of my campaign for choosing to speak.
Humans are emotional by nature. So when Stuhlbarg says, “So as to not feel anything, what a waste,” you are depriving yourself of what it means to be human in the first place.
To be alive is to feel.
And yes, that includes the sadness that comes with loss and heartbreak. Even if you are grieving someone who’s still alive but no longer in your life, you’re grieving the memory of what was, which can be heavy. And I hate to be that person who says there are lessons to be found in everything … but it’s true! If we don’t allow ourselves to feel the immense sadness that comes with vulnerability, how can we then appreciate the well of happiness that comes with finding someone who finally sees you?
“Everyone is trying to look untouched. Like caring is a lack of discipline. Like the person who notices first has already lost,” said Substack writer @iamtiisha.
Who are you really serving when you’re suppressing your emotions? In the words of Actor Austin Butler, “Embarrassment is an under-explored emotion.” Yes, rejection stings and can feel like a death in itself, but letting your feelings linger and acting as though they don’t exist isn’t conducive either.
So, my final verdict on whether it’s better to speak or to die: Speak, and speak with your whole heart.
Despite the tumultuous cradle that is my dating life … I’ll never stop believing in love, though it’s hurt me and brought me to my knees more than once. I believe in love persevering. Love transcending time and space. Love finding you when the time is right.
If we don’t have love and devotion, what do we have? I can have all the “things,” but what does it all really mean if I don’t one day have someone to share it with?
“I’ll never give up on love. It’s the food of life,” said Singer-Songwriter Sade Adu.