This is my new theory.
And I’m sticking to it … for now.
Cait: You’re my favourite husband.
(thanks to @queencaitriona for the lipread ;) )
So, what I think:
Basically, Sam and Cait got married. Like, ages ago. But for whatever reason, they don’t want it made public. Fine.
They might not be. And that’s ok. I don’t actually really know them, nor will I ever. But it makes me happy to think “they” love each other, just like it makes me happy to think Judith’ll make it to the end of TWD, and that Noah and Allie spent an entire lifetime together and then died, like, at the very same moment so they wouldn’t have to spend a second apart. The same reason I like the idea of William crawling back to Waity Katie, that Kelso and Jackie got together IRL, why I cried over Love, Rosie, and read Me Before You all in one sitting. Why I will always love Pride and Prejudice in all its forms, die a little each time for Catherine and Heathcliff, why I have a soft spot for Mr. Rochester, why I watch Bathsheba and Gabriel’s final scene in Far From the Madding Crowd on repeat. Why two of my favourite films are Shakespeare in Love and Titanic. Why the happiest movie moment of my childhood was when all the pets returned at the end of Homeward Bound. Why I cry at horses galloping. Why marching bands make my bottom lip wobble.
It’s because I am a person who feels, and these are all things that make me feel.
So, even if SamCait turns out to be SamCan’t – that’s ok. Because you know what the idea of them together tells me? That we feel. That we have, in the bottom of our hearts, a deep optimism for humankind. That we can see two people interact (and lightning flash) and share a resounding yessssssss because they represent what we believe has to exist in the world. Something that we hope to see in others’ lives, in our lives, because it makes us happy. It qualifies for us the goodness we share as a species: we want love, and we share a capacity to celebrate and thrive on the perceived love and happiness of others.
And sure, cynics may say Romance as an industry (in all its forms) capitalizes on our bleeding hearts, that we’re being played or taken advantage of – but truthfully, the fact that it’s so successfully targeting and profiting from such a beautiful part of the human condition – our empathy, our love, our optimism – I can’t see a fault in that. I’m not ashamed to have “bought in” to Romance. In fact, I celebrate it.
It tells me that with all the hate and anger and war and violence and politics and disrespect in this world, we still value loving one another. It tells me that maybe us humans aren’t all that bad after all.
And I can ship that.