People have feelings about Titanic. For example, there are plenty who insist that there was more than enough room for erstwhile lithesome Jack on that floating door debris. Perhaps there was but how would that have fit with the plot? They tried getting both of them on and he decided to sacrifice himself for his lady. When you’re succumbing to hypothermia having survived massive trauma you’re probably not in a hugely experimental mood. Grand romantic gestures are almost definitely more your thing.
But the issue I’ve heard raised over and again (I spend a lot of time on the internet rather than in conversation with rational people. Certain arguments get rehashed ever so slightly more often than they deserve to be) is that she says she’ll never let go in the same breath as casting his frozen corpse into the depths of the ocean. Well, my lambs it could be that she’s going for a more metaphorical interpretation of the statement. It’s probably not a good look if you’re trying to get rescued if you insist on lugging an expired boyfriend into the lifeboat.
This isn’t about the epic love story of Rose and her bit of rough though. It’s merely an example of a route that you could take in your own declaration that you might let go. However, it is a little limited. After all, I don’t know all that much about you but I can’t imagine that floating in the sea after the most celebratedly unsinkable vessel has just slipped below the waves is something that’s likely to happen to you more than once in a lifetime.
Perhaps if you’re dangling off the edge of a cliff face and your hopeful rescuers aren’t quite certain as to whether or not you purposefully put yourself in that situation, a bold declaration of the fact that you won’t let go will disabuse them of any suicidal suspicions. Or maybe you’re just holding hands with a loved one and you want to reassure them. One of those.
Say you won’t let go – James Arthur