Strike the match, strike it now//we’re a perfect match, perfect somehow

Strike the match, strike the match now

We’re a perfect match, perfect somehow

We were meant for one another

Come a little closer

Flame you came to me

Fire meet gasoline

-“Fire meet Gasoline” by Sia

How about a sappy post now? A sappy post about pairings in film/TV/literature whose stories and development strike me as compelling. Even if not much development has happened yet (*cough* Kylo *cough* Ren), I still look forward to seeing how their relationship progresses. But most of them have come to fruition and I would call these my “one true pairings”. Yes, it’s possible to have multiple “OTPs”. You must know that in real life I come up with ship names for my friends and their significant others. It is a great source of entertainment, especially to tease my friend/family member. 😉

And some of these couples may surprise you. You may think, “Geez, this girl goes for the dark romances!”

True, true. Most of the time I am drawn to the stories that promise the most development, change, and redemption. Give me a broken human who finds light in another, who is guided back to the right path and strives to care for and love this special person. That special person changes them, alters them forever, and the old way of life becomes like a ball and chain. I like to consider myself an optimist. And yes, maybe a tad idealistic. But I love to see the person in the light (which to me represents God’s goodness and mercy) lift the one crumbling in darkness out of despair and into hope. Is this cheesy?

For some reason I find it extremely inspiring, heart-wrenching, and dear. These are the romances I adore, the ones I hope will happen, the pairings I see so much promise in as a part of the larger picture of the story.

And ironically, a good many of the pairings below contain an NF personality type-which is, one of my own kind, since I’m an INFP, in myers-brigg typology. I will share the characters’ types as well.

Note: Yes, I know I’ve done this before, but this is the list that contains the most gripping sorts of relationships. Also, expect this to be a semi-long post.

The Phantom (Erik) [INFJ] and Christine [INFP]

The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux

I read Susan Kay’s novel, Phantom several years ago, and it was probably among my favorites. It was probably melodramatic, in retrospect, but I believe it captured the Gothic elements of the actual story. It truly is a Gothic story, pretty legendary in musical history. The Phantom of the Opera is a dark fairytale, and it follows the trope of “Death and the Maiden.” Christine wears white, a sign of her innocence, and the Phantom is the “Angel of Music” who teaches her how to become a legendary singer. But this Angel is a jealous teacher. And that is the setup for the rest of the story, which entails Christine slowly discovering the warped ideals and damaged nature of her Angel of Music. Both Leroux’s original novel and Susan Kay’s book reveal the layers of pain and hurt and lack of healthy development of Erik, the Phantom. While some would argue that is going out to justify his actions, I believe it is showing a man who since childhood has seen the worst side of humanity. Christine is his idealized project, his very own piece of humanity that is untouched by the cruelty he has always known. She shows him that she has the strength to live selflessly, and it seems like her name is meant to hint at her Christ-like grace and compassion. She chooses to sacrifice herself so Raoul, the man who is trying to court her, can be freed from Erik’s lair. He realizes how truly selfless she is and surrenders her, however much pain it costs him. Yes, he is a damaged soul seeking to grab at whatever comfort he desires. But he learns. He surrenders. He lays down his own need ultimately for Christine.

Kylo Ren (INFP) and Rey (ISTP)

Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Probably one of my favorites. I honestly didn’t even realize the potential for a relationship between these two at first. During the first viewing with my family, my cousin and sister started cracking up because they saw Kylo Ren as extremely ugly. And then I saw a piece of Reylo fan art on the internet a couple weeks later and the realization slammed into me. This could really be a fantastic thing, Kylo Ren the prodigal son of Leia and Han. I never got much into Star Wars until these two. The dynamic and chemistry between Rey and Kylo Ren is definitely there. This story has the potential for a Beauty and the Beast twist that would lead to the redemption of Kylo Ren. I believe the force bond that is probably developing between them will become evident in the next two films. And I sincerely hope they aren’t cousins. But it looks like that theory is null. Here’s to hoping Rey is a Kenobi.   😉

Daryl Dixon (ISTP) and Beth Greene (INFP)

The Walking Dead (AMC)

Well. This show has succeeded in rattling me to the core. It’s absolutely tragic and shows us how humans can survive despite all odds. It seems to be a much more intense version of LOST, plus the walking dead. But these two. These two have a unique sort of relationship. While it was never officially called a romantic relationship, what existed between Beth and Daryl was pure, subtle, and emotionally shaking. They are “two sides of the same coin”–she reminds him there is good in the world still and he teaches her to face reality, to toughen up in order to make it in the world. And that is such a beautiful thing between two people.

Sherlock Holmes (INTP) and Molly Hooper (INFJ)

Sherlock (BBC)

Well, I’m pretty sure I started with the hardcore adoration of “shipping” when I watched Sherlock. Now, this is my opinion, but I detected a sweet connection between socially dysfunctional Sherlock and sensitive, caring Molly. They have something, there’s these shared looks and Sherlock shooting off rude comments about Molly’s various boyfriends (JEALOUS?). He always apologizes to her when he says something hurtful or insensitive, and he kisses her so tenderly on the cheek, and once on the lips! I really look forward to seeing where the series takes their relationship. I honestly think it has strong potential for being an example of somebody (Molly) bringing out the best in someone else (Sherlock). And he gives her blunt, but quite insightful, commentary on her choices in relationships and he values her hard work.

Jack Shepherd (ESTJ) and Kate Austen (ISFP)

LOST (ABC)

When I saw this show a few years ago I found it to be rich in storytelling and in how it developed each individual character and their relationships with each other. But best of all, I found a new OTP. Jack and Kate. They complete each other. They are both haunted by their pasts, they both seek to restart on the Island. And in each other they discover a friend, confidante, and eventually love. Complicated, tough, and unbreakable love. Theirs is a roller-coaster relationship. But in the end, they understand that they need one another. They survive together, and they go on together to face whatever J.J. Abrams throws at them. 🙂

What of Heaven and Men?

Partially inspired by adventures in the highly illuminating Omnibus series, I find myself drifting back towards writing fiction. Like I said, yes, I am doing The Writing Month thingy this year. Finally. But still, I procrastinate and write about OTHER things BESIDES this imminent project that shall be here in like . . . gosh . . . 12 days. There is a blog thing going around in regards to the endeavors of National Novel Writing Month. One of my favorite blogs called Further up and Further In is hosting Beautiful Books, a project designed to provoke thoughts and questions concerning the novels. My answers to their questions should be here soon. In the meantime, have a short story meant to be expanded on in my WIP, Heaven’s Sight. 

The corners of Father O’Connor’s mouth curled slightly as he peered down at the paper in Anton’s hands. “Well,” he murmured, bending down a bit more. “What a work is this! What a work indeed.”

“My sketch,” Anton said tremulously. He forced himself to look straight up into the priest’s face. His eyes revealed that skittish anxiety which one could notice almost immediately when looking at him.

“Yes, my lad. That is quite a sketch. It is a wonder!”

Anton’s stricken features suddenly relaxed—an infinitesimal bit.

“You needn’t look as if I’m ‘bout to rap you o’er your knuckles, lad,” Father O’Connor sighed, and then laughed. He ruffled the boy’s dark curls, with a full-fledged grin spreading out his mouth. “I was in a good mind to when I called you to stay here, but I don’t believe Michelangelo’s teacher would have done that, if Michelangelo was working those marvelous hands o’ his.”

Anton sat in twitching silence, clasping and unclasping his own damp hands.

Father O’Connor laughed again. “Aye, lad! I will send you on your way now. You’re lookin’ a wee peaked now, and I believe you’ve been punished enough, by your own doing. And I’d be mighty pleased to see if you have a book of these sketches hidden away somewhere.”

“Oh, Father!” Anton burst out at last, terror etched sharply in his features. “I won’t ever draw in class again! I won’t! I won’t!”

“Hush, now. None of this. If you fear that I will seize your sketchbook, you have me quite wrong. Nothing of that sort shall come about, I am only desperately curious to have a look at your pictures.”

Anton, pleadings burning on his tongue, sat in heavy silence. A flicker of worry sent a faint chill through the priest. He laid his hand gently on Anton’s fist. “There, there, my lad,” he said softly, “you mustn’t be afraid of me. Or of anyone else here. What a blessing it is that you should be here now, reading books, learning, safe and warm with everything a lad could need! ‘Tis a fine blessing, Mother Mary’s benediction for you.”

Anton did not stir or speak. So Father O’Connor continued. “And I only asked to see your pictures, for I find you do a splendid job of it, a real dandy hand you have. You must have many a reason to thank heaven—”

His words might have been sparks to a bed of straw. Anton’s eyes took on an uncanny frigid brilliance. “Heaven hasn’t given me anything,” he said simply.

Father O’Connor’s eyebrows leapt up his forehead, and his mouth tightened at once. “Crikey, lad! What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” said Anton still in that frank, slow tone, “That I haven’t ever heard or seen anything from Heaven good. Nothing will.”

“One does not see or hear a divine thing, my son. It is something beyond that. Beyond the tangible and the reasonable. And indeed, nothing is ever wholly good on this earth—that is only material. What is in it—that is the beautiful substance of life.”

But Anton had stood, his limber young figure akin to a healthy sapling. Father O’Connor let his tongue rest, even as he clasped his hands. He watched Anton silently gather his things, noting the masked expression—not even an expression, but some new hardness.

Follow up (a music post)

When I first started into middle-school (homeschooled, mind you), I was sort of really shy and awkward and full of wacky dreams and stories that consumed me and filled me with absolute bliss. I could sit forever and ever in front of the computer typing or I could read book after book about my favorite historical time periods/people (Ancient Greece and Rome, and Lafayette, the American Revolution, etc.) I found out that I could escape into the land of reverie when I listened to music and filled my little mp3 with artists whose songs sent my imagination spinning so wonderfully fast. Those were sweet, special, awkward growing days for me. And goodness, at 18, 12 sounds so-o-o faraway. Ridiculous. For some reason I love the number twelve, I loved being twelve, when everything was possible and romance seemed just around the corner and time travel could actually happen, and everybody in my head, real or fictional, dead or alive, played into the stories I crafted while daydreaming or at the computer.

Maybe you could understand. Maybe there is some music that you associate with a time or epoch, a phase, a memory, an infatuation ;), anything! I noticed how my music tastes have changed–I loved Jump5, a teen band of the early 2000’s. Whenever I turn them on I feel all sorrowful because this music connects so deeply to my preteen years, my middle-school days. Across the years since then new interests and passions have sprung up, causing an alteration in my music library appearance. Now I tend to listen to some worship music and contemporary, pop, country, classical, classical crossover, soundtrack (I listened to a lot of this earlier, but not such wide variety). It’s strange, seeing this change. I can see how I’ve matured and changed. I can see where old enthusiasm died to be replaced by a new emotion or feeling that comes alongside with growing up. I listen to Paramore’s “Ain’t it fun”, to the fun swing of Florida Georgia Line, Sara Barielles, Coldplay, Maroon 5, OneRepublic, and Capital Cities.

But today when I went running I chose to turn on Jump5 again, as I do sometimes (but not often enough). And the songs . . . they really uplift me, even more so than before. Somehow the lyrics hit me on a deeper note than before–I’m older, I guess, but they mean more, the words trickle into my mind, messages to my soul. I usually don’t feel such a personal connection with the majority of music I listen to nowadays, so listening to Jump5 and those old songs of my younger years . . .  they really mean something. Not just for inspiration, but for soul-healing, for sitting back in being a little girl again and not knowing as much as I do now. Just listening and enjoying and drinking in the message that really is profound in many, many ways to me.

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