In Vino Veritas (The truth is that everyone is Tad Hamilton to somebody)
“Everyone is Tad Hamilton to somebody. She’s Tad Hamilton to you, and you’re Tad Hamilton to me”
I know the quote may be lost on you if you haven’t watched the movie, but let me explain. Everyone has someone that they meet and in them, they see the beginning and end they have always desired, always thought would be theirs and regardless of how cynical you are (and trust me, I’m plenty of that), you realise that this one person, this one singular only person is who can make you happy. One person whose pulse beats to such an extent as to awaken yours, one pair of lips you need on yours with the passion of a thousand suns and no matter how much the notion of no is postulated, you can’t imagine it. Yes is the only answer that can and will ever ring true.
I, regardless of your will power, dream the most intense dreams of how it would be – the quiet contentment that would come with being with you, that person I realise has that something else. The intense and surreal desire that comes with my dreams of such opulence of emotion that makes me doubt myself to the point where my beliefs seem pointless, where the need for you, the unquestionable insanity of intimacy I yearn for drives me blindly and incessantly. Sure, there are others who may tick my boxes, but we all know that there is that illusive factor to a relationship that you cannot explain. You and I may never happen. I am aware of that in reality, but my fantasies are not deterred, are not without merit or a will of their own.
I am a realist and in that I find the comfort that where I am in life right now is where I am, what I have to work with is what I have. Waiting for a chance that may never happen is no way to spend my time when my potential is unlimited and not even slightly as tapped into as it should be. I have so many ambitions I wish to achieve that our undeniable doom of the dreamland in which this exists does not condemn me, it merely perplexes me. For if I can see this (as a mostly rational being) there is no way you have not considered the possibility of the greatness that could await us if only we could let go of the fear and give in to the ever growing natural flow of our senses.
I know that I cannot hope, or rather, I know I shouldn’t. Dreams are based in illusion and are no reflection on reality as perceived by those awake and of sober and sombre mind. But the truth is that I cannot mistake my own lie for the truth, and neither can you. It does not mean that I cannot sustain the lie, only that I am well aware of the fact that it is indeed a lie. I carry on with the mediocre menial existence you have chosen for us, but the undeniable, logical and reasonable truth is that you and I are the combination that fairy tales are made of.
You are Tad Hamilton to me, that much is obvious even in my dreams…