I saw David Lynch's "Wild at Heart" today and it made me really really sad.
There are these two people and tons of fucked up shit keeps getting forced between them. But in the very end, they manage to reunite and realize the only thing that they ever wanted: each other.
It's an explicit Wizard of Oz fairy tale and it makes me so unhappy. My experience with relationships has had absolutely nothing in common with the conclusion of the story. It's like you feel really left out of some greater, transcendental experience. Nature is just a big, cruel joke. We're constantly taunted with the Real, but we can never realize it. Our desire to be desired by the Other can never get fulfilled. Language, social convention, and the Symbolic always get in the way and keep it all out of your grasp, just like the way Guy can't seem to win his tennis match in Hitchcock's "Strangers on a Train." The attainment of the Other and the fulfillment of desire are only possible in the fantasy screens of movies and books. They beckon for us to try to grab them, but always dance out of the way, leaving us cut up and nauseous at the last second.
There is no Utopia. No harmony. No love. At least not that I've experienced. Once the mirror stage forces us to differentiate between the signifiers of the Self and the Other, it's all over. We hurt other people without even realizing it and are doomed to a life of misunderstanding and unbearable pain.
That's why I'm sad tonight.
I have no more heroes. You killed them all.