I don’t want to yearn anymore
I’ve noticed that yearning has been “trending.” My social media algorithm has figured it out and shows me all sorts of clips of yearning. It might be Jess and Rory’s mismatched timing in Gilmore Girls, or the way Jesse and Céline look at each other in Before Sunrise, though they’ve only known each other for a day. There have been continual tributes to Patrick Verona in 10 Things I Hate About You, where he serenades Kat with a song and a marching band.
Then there’s the recent Sense and Sensibility. I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve never read the book or seen any of the movies. But having seen the yearning in Pride & Prejudice, Persuasion, and even Emma, I know it’s safe to assume there’s plenty of yearning there.
Daisy Edgar-Jones, who starred in the new Sense and Sensibility, recently shared her thoughts on yearning.
“Even though it’s agony, it means you’re so alive,” she said. “When you’re like in love and yearning, like that is the most alive you ever are. I think it’s so underrated.”
There is something beautiful about yearning for love and a particular person. That’s why so many stories have it in some way or another. Compare it to how many people treat dating today, and it makes sense why it’s a “trend” now. These days, people either don’t care, or they think there are endless options out there, thanks to dating apps and social media.
Yearning is the total opposite of that. Yearning says that in a sea of people, there’s just one person that you long for, and you’ll do it forever if you have to. Even though Edgar-Jones described it as “agony,” we can appreciate the ability to feel deeply.
If you’ve never yearned before, I’d say that Before Sunrise encapsulates the feeling. Jesse and Céline connect almost instantly. They can talk about anything and everything for hours, from little annoyances to their biggest dreams. They realize they’ve found a true kindred spirit. Someone whose mind works the same way.
They understand one another, and they know this is special. By the end of the movie, you know this is a day they’ll always remember.
I admit I haven’t finished the Before trilogy. But from what I know about the sequel, it seems we see the other side of yearning. Jesse and Céline have gone their separate ways and entered new relationships. But their relationships have been inadequate compared to the connection they formed over one day many years ago.
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It just begs the question, then. Were they meant for each other all along? Or was it easy to fixate on the one perfect day they had together, thereby ruining other future relationships? In other words, their connection was real, but they didn’t have a relationship. They only had the memory of the wonderful moments together, and they could use their imagination to fill in the gaps. They wouldn’t know how they would handle conflict, or how the relationship would stand against real challenges.
From what I’ve experienced, yearning is just that: An imagined idea of what could be.
It can be haunting, really. Especially if your imagination is interwoven with reality. You might have a real, meaningful connection, unlike any other, with that person. But for whatever reason, you’re not together. So, you yearn to be with them, knowing how special that is. Much like Jesse and Céline, I know how that feels. And I know what it’s like to hope against hope that it’ll work out.
But you might miss out on life as you fixate on an idea of love.
I hate to say that I know something about this. I’ve probably yearned enough for me and 10 other people, earning me a PhD in yearning. Like some degrees, though, I might be worse off than I was before. This past year felt like the thesis project, or what could be affectionately known as the “Year of Yearning.”
I guess that’s why I don’t want to do it anymore.
I won’t say that I’ve wasted all my time. I don’t think that’s a healthy perspective. I know I’ve learned things I wouldn’t have otherwise. I got to experience feelings and a connection that some people only dream about.
But I don’t want to spend another moment hoping for something that isn’t mine.
I’m about to enter a new decade of life, and what I want now is to fully embrace where I am. It’s not that all my desires melt away. I can’t turn them off like a faucet, as lovely as that might be. It’s that I can’t change some things, and therefore, I don’t want to pretend I’m anywhere else.
I’ve always been a dreamer, and that comes in handy for storytelling. When it comes to real life, though, I want to be able to enjoy it all. That’s what I want this next decade to be marked by. I want to be in the moment and stop yearning for what I don’t have.
Still, the storyteller in me doesn’t want to knock yearning. I’d rather people yearn than not care. Just know, though, that yearning doesn’t guarantee you’ll get what you hope for. I’d say that Daisy Edgar-Jones’ words ring true. While it makes you feel alive, it is truly agony.
Yearning isn’t for the faint of heart.
