Jake and I watched a war movie last night.
Yeah. Me. Watching a war movie.
It was really pretty awful. I mean, the movie was okay. It was pretty well-directed and all. But the parts about war? I dunno. I don't like wars. I'm somewhat okay with blood and guts, but that's a hell of a lot of blood and guts for me to stomach in the course of an evening.
Afterwards, for lack of anything better to say (after all, "war is hell" is pretty cliché, and the Jensen family likes wars a whole lot. The ones on TV anyway), I said, "Hm... Why do they call 'em 'Charlie?"
Jake didn't know. So we sat outside for a few minutes and thought in silence. It was a pretty powerful movie. Most movies about war are pretty powerful.
The silence was very profound. It was very dark out.
Jake murmured, "So... you wanna do it?"
"Darling," I said. "You will forgive me if I'm not exactly in the mood for sex after watching two hours' worth of people getting blown up?"
"Sure, but... just a quickie?"
"Jake!"
"What!?"
"What is your problem?"
"Make love, not war, baby!"
"Do it for my country?"
"Nah, do it for ME!"
"Can I shower first? I feel like I have guts on me."
"Sure."
"I love you, Jake. You FREAK."
So I took a shower. And Jake and I proudly did our parts for the anti-war movement. Had this been the Vietnam era, everybody would have dropped their guns and hugged. Maybe had some tea and held hands for awhile. War is a powerful thing. Love, I think, is even more powerful. I mean, at least the way Jake and I understand it...
*giggle*
~Helena*