You have half an hour

One day my sisters and I were clicking through channels and stumbled upon Titanic on TV. The youngest one asked: “What if we were on this sinking ship? What would you do?"

We all looked at each other. That was a strenuous question.

“I would fight for my life to be saved,” I replied.

"Nah. It's impossible to be saved - everyone dies. What would you do," she insisted, "if you knew exactly that in one hour - you die?”

I started thinking. She went first: “I would have had sex.”

We all glanced at her. She said: "After all, you can die and not ever find out what it is!" No one in the room laughed.

If you knew in advance how long your last relationship would last, would you start it? Be honest!

Ok, look: there he is, that guy, the one. And what changes if you don't end up living happily ever after, but you know for sure you have:

- three years,

- two months,

- one week,

- only this night

- only half an hour (not on a sinking ship - no, here, on the ground - and now)?

I bothered many of my friends with this question. The outcome was amazing: for most of them, the guy immediately ceased to be in any way valuable. So, what prevents us (you, me) from being the most honest and generous, the most daring and sincere, the most grateful and loving version of ourselves at any time?

Well, really? Tell me! What changes?

Half an hour, of course, is not enough for anything: dinner, conversation, sex. I’m saying this is THE GUY! You look at him and you know – he is the one. You will never see each other again. Half an hour ... What am I going to tell him? What would I be able to give? You know, as we have only half an hour - I'd be quiet. I would look at him carefully, I would study his face, I would try to remember him. Maybe I’d tell him that he is amazing, great, that I believe in him, that he’s done well, that everything would work out, and I’d also ask what he dreamed about and what book should I read. I would tell him about the most beautiful place on earth so that he could visit there. And, for sure, I will give him a hug.

And what if you had one night? One night is a completely different matter. You can get far if you go fast enough. You could fly somewhere. You could get lost in a forest. You could have the best night of your life if you have a whole night ahead. You could stay in your flat, in bed, watch a movie, swim in a lake / "Hmm…what's your favourite dish?" / "let's bake a cake" / "what do you mean you've never baked?" I would find out who his enemy is and why, against whom he holds the grudge and what for. I would ask him to let go of it.

And if it's one week - then what? Maybe go to the sea? Maybe rent a shack in a tropical forest? No? Who you voted for – it doesn’t matter anymore. You WILL NOT see each other again. You can ignore bad jokes and awkward laughter. Right? "Well, what do you mean he doesn’t spend money on you? - It’s just that we are not there yet (separate budget, of course). "

Can you feel it? A week is already a lot. How much the questions have changed. Now there is even more of them. How does he make money and, most importantly, how does he spend it? A week is too long not to ask about his family. Who cares? "Is it really my business?" Only seven short days ahead, you should be happy to walk the same direction. But it doesn’t suit you anymore, no: you doubt, think that the week may be enough for one of you to follow another on the eighth day? But no - only seven short days.

Three years - oh, of course, we need a new bed / wardrobe / flat. “He dresses terribly,” I write to my sister sitting on the first date as I send photos from the gas station. “Tropical prints are trendy nowadays,” my sister consoles me. THREE YEARS! Too long to forgive wrong jokes, wrong shoes, wrong friends! Where do you live and how do you get by? His money or yours? Or in halves? Would you get along with his friends and parents? Who is Monica? "No, hun, I didn't mean that this job is not promising. No, I would like to spend New Year's Day somewhere with snow. And with you, of course."

Tomorrow (or forty years later) the person you love will leave to get coffee / to work / to see friends - and will be gone forever. But if you knew exactly how much time is given to you, how would you live: like you have half an hour - or a whole life? And all of it - sex, shack in a forest, enemy, cake made at night, moving flats, these years - wasn’t worth it then? Didn’t you live, didn’t you feel love and joy, happiness and pain (pain is okay, too)? Aren't these three days / four months / two years / tonight / - your precious life, every moment of which is forever archived, and you can't turn it back.

- So what? – sister looked at me. - What would you do?

“I would drink the most expensive wine in a bar, write a note, put it in a bottle and throw it into the sea.”

- What would you write?

- Live as you wish and forgive yourself.