Love -- Unrequited and/or Obsessive

A few years ago I read a novel called Cal by Bernard MacLaverty. Really liked it. Last weekend I read it again as part of the World Novel class I'm currently taking. It's a great little book, barely over 150 pages, but packed full. With the background of the "troubles" in Northern Ireland, the book tells the story of Cal, a 19-year-old Irish lad, who falls in love with an older woman, a widow by the name of Marcella. The twist is that Cal, under the influence of some mates who are members of the I.R.A., drove the getaway car when his friends murdered Marcella's husband. Cal manages to worm himself into Marcella's life, they develop a bit of a friendship, but he desperately wants more. Of course, he suffers from incredible guilt over his participation in her husband's murder. He thinks he wants to tell her, but, of course, can't. This is a doomed relationship, one that in no way can ever succeed, and yet Cal can't get himself away from it. He wants to be near her, even though his love for, obsessive as it is, is also unrequited. There's a scene where he's alone in her house, waiting for her to come home, and he goes into her room, goes through her stuff, and smells her clothes. I'm sure many people would find this scene incredibly creepy and stalker-ish. I totally relate to Cal.

In fact, I had a bit more trouble with the book this time than I did last time I read it. It struck a little too close to home for me, I think. I know as much about unrequited love as anyone. And sadly, obsessive love, too. Cal is in love with someone, has the opportunity to be near her and spend time with her, wants so much more, and yet knows that there is absolutely no possibility that this relationship will ever work. Man, I can relate.