Paradox of Love and Freedom

Fredrich: Tell me, you think that love deprives you of your freedom?

Anneliese: Well, as you know, I believe love to be the most vital thing in this world. The most imperative indeed. One to die without love, has not lived. So no, it does not deprive us of our freedom.

Fredrich: Enlighten me if I am mistaken, dear Liesl, but to be free is to be oneself to the core, right? To take whatever decisions you desire and certainly not act against your own will, merely to satisfy the other person. To be free shall be compared to solitude. To be in solitude is to be away from mortal dealings, your soul separate from the crowd, but should a single other soul draw near to yours, and you permit it, you cease to be in solitude. Take the stars for example, some are too far from each other, that one for example, up there, look, it stands completely alone there, completely in solitude, should another star move closer to it, you shall cease to only see it alone, you shall see but two stars shining brightly instead. You shall look at them and think, one has the company of another, they certainly know not of solitude. But here's the thing, the star before having a companion, it was completely free, free to think as it desired and act as it desired. Yet now with a companion, it oughtn't only think of itself but the other star as well. Should the other star become dimmer, it ought to shine even brighter to keep the other alive, shining now for both of them. But what if the one star tires of living, desires to explode and scatter through the space. It shan't do so, yet it shall continue to live. You wouldn't call that freedom, now, shall you?

Anneliese: What you say is indeed true. But here's the thing, that star you speak of has a choice, to shine even brighter to make up for the other dimmer one, or let it fade away into the darkness. It is free to choose, and whatever it chooses it shall bear the consequence. But do you wonder why it chooses to shine brighter, dear Fritz? It is because it is truly fond of the other, between freedom and death, there lies love. What is the point of freedom if it deprives you of love, of life?

Fredrich: Are you saying though love deprives you of your freedom, it is worth it?

Anneliese: No, it does not deprive you of your freedom.

Fredrich: Liesl dear, you contradict yourself, love has consequences, you just don't wish to view them as consequences. You refuse to believe that something so beautiful can bear consequences. The moment you find a lover, the moment you get married, the moment you have kids, you cease to be free. Listen, I am not saying this be a bad thing, but a form of sacrifice. And it is indeed for a good course. Freedom sounds like a sweet delight, yet obtained it turns to a curse. To be a free man is to invite anguish. But listen, you might not realize it, but the moment you loose your lover, you gain back some freedom. Indeed, you feel no conviction to live the same life you did.

Anneliese: Right, I suppose to be in love is to abandon your freedom, then. Anyways, anything done in regards of love, is permitted. Hell, what worthy way to die if not for love?

Fredrich: Ahh, I've just recalled a peculiar soul, do you know what Jean-Paul Sartre said about freedom?

Anneliese: That genius! Do enlighten me.

Fredrich: He said humans are condemned to be free. This freedom, however, comes with a profound sense of responsibility for the consequences of those choices.

Such is the same with love, to be in love, comes with consequences and responsibilities, of course, you may believe that indeed you are still free, so free that you choose to turn a blind eye to these responsibilities, act almost as though they are not there, though you be fulfilling them. Some people notice these responsibilities yet refuse to abide by them. Of course, that is their choice, but here's the thing, if you do so, then this love you speak of ceases to be love. Rather, it takes the form of a beast and eats you apart. Now, not only are you destroying yourself but the so-called lover as well. Indeed we are free, yet not free at all. Choosing to be away from society and life's convictions comes with a price, consequences, consequences you shan't be able to evade. You shall fall into a void, and that would entirely be on you.

Anneliese: Tell me, do you think God is free? If he created all this, it was of his own free will, right? Then he, too, has to bear the consequences, the trouble of making sure all is in order.

Fredrich: I don't believe there's a God. Yet I believe there's a God. Here's the thing, perhaps God is real, and as they all say, he gave us free will. In a way, that means he gave us freedom. Now, if he were to intervene with us humans, show to us miracles and prevent us taking this path or that path, that would mean this freedom isn't much a freedom after all... it ceases to be in that form. He, the one who bestowed upon us freedom, deprives us of it as well.

Anneliese: I see. So you reckon if God continues to play a part in humanity, that is the consequence of having created it in the first place? And if he chooses to leave us be on our own, the consequence will be of him witnessing us drift away from him. Say a writer, for instance, it is upon his wish to start writing a novel, from that moment it is upon him to make sure he keeps writing in order to keep this world he created alive, yet should he choose to abandon this story, he bears the consequence of witnessing it crushing down to ashes... Tell me, dear Fredrich, if you were God, what would you do, say you have already created everything, would you play a part in its guiding or sit back and watch it all play out?

Fredrich: I shall say only one thing, dear Anneliese. We are all free. And yet we are not. We are forced to make choices. Only pray you they are the right ones. As for the divine, well, who am I to speak on freedom of the divine, if I do not comprehend it? Here we are not only speaking of earth and its dwellers, but multiples of planets and galaxies.

Anneliese: Well... that much be true, dear Fritz.

Fredrich: But you know, dear Liesl, now that we are speaking of love, I have a confession to address. A rather melancholic one...

Anneliese: Go on... you suddenly seem in distress, dear Fritz. Speak to me.

Fredrich: I believe that love has abandoned me, or rather, I have drifted too very far from it. I have realized that in all the poems I've written lately, none speak of love, none have spoken of love in a very long time.

Anneliese: And why is it have you stopped writing on love? I have seen your love poems, dear Fritz, they are truly beautiful, and pure.

Fredrich: Well, here's the thing, I've never been in love. Rather allow me to phrase it like this, I have loved before, but it was always rather unrequited. And so on certain occasions I didn't write on unrequited love, but rather on love itself, because I felt it. I wrote what I truly felt inside, what I felt for the other person. That is why those poems seem pure, because they were written from a pure place in my heart. But I stopped doing that, I stopped in small fragments that I didn't realize it myself. I thought it rather pathetic, all those poems, all those lovely poems gone rather unnoticed. I thought myself a fool. And so I stopped even on writing of love unreturned, even though I have hundreds of such poems.

Anneliese: But does it really matter if they go unnoticed, dear Fritz? I think not. Because not only are you writing them for that person, but for yourself as well. It is as though ceasing to be kind because kindness wasn't returned to you...

Fredrich: But what if it tears me apart?

Anneliese: Write still. You shan't stop being kind shall you? Write your soul down, write it so you can see how it looks, your soul. Write so you could see how lovely you can love.

Fredrich: But that is the issue, dear Liesl. You see, I fear I have forgotten how to love.

Anneliese: How so?

Fredrich: All this time I thought, if love would happen to visit me, I'd know that I deserve it, I'd know how to do it perfectly, treat my love as though she were a delicate dandelion that I hold with care, lest it blows and scatters away. But here's the thing, I've realized if such a love were to visit me I wouldn't know how to act. Hell, I don't know if I would care about it much... I don't write about love because I've forgotten what it is, what is it that lovers do? I'd mess it up rather in seconds. That is why I've stopped writing of love isn't it, dear Liesl? I've drifted rather too far from it and enveloped myself in a cloud very far from humanity. Dear lord, I've really been unjust upon my heart.

Anneliese: How tragic... all this because you were denied love. It seems you believe you were banished from it.

Fredrich: But am I really not? I don't see myself writing yet another love poem. Hell, even the thought doesn't interest me. But isn't that the issue... that it doesn't interest me... even though I know that pure love is beautiful. To love and be loved back the same, if not more. It just doesn't interest me, is it because I truly believe I shan't ever experience it? That it is only but a dream... if one were to feel love for me I'd pity them. You dare throw yourself into a void. I shall spoil them, so I believe in order to avoid that, I'd make the choice for them, I shall be selfish, I'd show them I'm not one worthy of being loved.

Anneliese: Dear Fritz, you torture yourself.

Fredrich: I hold myself accountable, that is all.

Anneliese: You do wish to feel love, don't you?

Fredrich: Indeed, but I also know it isn't possible.

Anneliese: You are mistaken.

Fredrich: Who dares have the patience to wait for me until I'm able to love? Who dares have the patience to teach me how to love? You may attempt, but you'll only grow weary of me. And you shall depart. Dear Liesl, don't think that I pity myself, I do not, I only wished to inform you that I have forgotten how to love.

Anneliese: I'll pity yourself for you. Besides, you are rather still young, there is chance to still learn the art of loving, even if against your will, your heart will force you, for her.

Fredrich: I'm afraid time is a thief. And I haven't got much years left. I feel each minute pass and it frightens me more than it should, that each minute passes through with a part of my youth. I don't wish to grow old. That means I only have a few years here on this earth. I don't believe those years are enough for me to learn to love.

Anneliese: You'd be surprised, how one could learn to love in a minute. Like I said, the heart would force you.

Fredrich: I shall torture it with past experiences, with reality.

Anneliese: You shan't succeed. You underestimate the heart.

Fredrich: As a poet, I assure you I shall succeed.

Anneliese: Indeed you are a poet, but even though, you have no idea of the heart's depths. It is like the ocean, you can't win against it, its currents are way too powerful for you. You shall bow down and obey it, you shall let loose your fists and let it float you wherever it desires.

Fredrich: Well, then, we shall see, shan't we?

Anneliese: We shall. Tell me one thing dear Fritz, I'm rather curious. I understand you don't wish to age, but you said you only have got a few years here on this earth. How could you be certain? You aren't God, you aren't divine. You don't possess the knowledge of when you die nor how. You aren't certain, when you'll die, what shall happen when you find that you're growing old?

Fredrich: I don't know... everyday I kill myself in small fragments, though I find comfort in smoking, it also pleases me that it kills me slowly. I'm fond of intoxication, of all the caffeine I consume daily. I love it, it loves me, at least this love is mutual. I do it all because I enjoy it, because it kills me.

Anneliese: Yet you aren't certain whether you'll due in time... You still might live long into old age, you know? Indeed! It is possible!

Fredrich: That is quite true, I can only hope death finds me sooner.

Anneliese: But if it doesn't?

Fredrich: Ask me directly what you wish to ask. Will I kill myself?

Anneliese: ...will you?

Fredrich: There's a great deal of dangerous things I would like to do. I'd ensure that I die doing something fun, on the contrary, I don't mind an easy, soundless die.