Lately, I’ve been thinking of unrequited love. It’s in virtually every book, movie, and television show produced. In every bar and middle school across the planet. We are creatures of theatrics. We indulge in literature and film for the sake of excitement, investing in the lives of others we identify with. It’s natural to cling to these characters because it is safer to watch them navigate through hardship than to deal with our own, hoping to find solace or guidance in their responses.
Jim and Pam from 'The Office' are one of the most collectively rooted for couples on television. Why? Because for three excruciating seasons we watched them dance the fine line between having a relationship and being in one. Our heart aches with Jim when watching Pam kiss her fiancé. We cry when Pam sees Jim leave work with Karen. We have been both characters on each end—receiving love that we do not return and offering ourselves to people who do not want us. The tension between these characters reignites our own memories of desire and embarrassment. Of course, this is all fictional and at the end of every sitcom there is a pot of gold. The problem with Jim and Pam though, is that they give their viewers a false silver lining. In the real world, we are not afforded these same luxuries. In spite of their believability, they present an unrealistic image of two individuals suffering from unrequited love. For most people, the pursuit ends at that rejected kiss at the office party. For many, that kiss never comes. And who can blame them? Having the concrete understanding that one is undesired is almost unbearable. Not only is one’s ego crippled, but the window of their fantasies is shattered, leaving them incapable of remaining hopeful while romanticizing a relationship they never had to begin with.
Nobody knew unrequited love like Charlie Brown. He was the king of what ifs, connoisseur of could bes. His love for the little red haired girl persists through thousands of pages of comic strip, illustrated only by his internal thought bubbles. Never once does Schulz allow his reader to see this girl, revealing the roles the mind plays when dealing with unreciprocated love. His connection to the little red haired girl exists only in his mind, their relationship a string of hypothetical situations that never materialize. And people wonder why the guy was always depressed. His whole life is just a series of let downs and missed opportunities that he could not overcome from fear. And I don’t blame him. If anything, he did the best thing he could have possibly done. He let her float by him, beneath her radar holding his breath, hoping she would look down while knowing that it would never happen, giving him the ability to forever keep hope alive in the limbo of uncertainty. When no action is taken, anything is possible. In some ways, I think that makes him an optimist. While living with the heavy heart of unrequited love is painful, ending the daydream with a definitive no seems much worse. So here's to you, Charlie Brown.
