I read a book a while ago written by one of Colin Farrell’s exes, and honestly, it was an excellent book. It was more about her than her actual relationship with Colin, but the chapters on him were definitely intense. All of the rumors about Colin Farrell kind of being unhinged? Definitely true. Most likely, anyway. The dude was weird. He wanted to stay locked up in his house for days with her and have no outside contact. He’d call all of the time when he was on location, and then one day, he just stopped. Later that week, she read about how he was expecting a baby with someone else. He’s had a four month marriage and a sex tape with a playmate, and he knocked up another chick on the sly …pretty typical for an actor.
Since that time, Colin has laid low, gone to rehab, had a baby with a disability and quietly made stellar movies. No one ever said he wasn’t talented (Phone Booth omitted). He’s gotten involved in charities and occasionally pops up talking about how his son changed his life.
Now he’s on the cover of Details Magazine giving, what I think, is the best advice I’ve ever heard from a man about a relationship, aside from Ice-T saying “Coco’s happiness trumps everything”, but that’s another article for another day.
In Details, Farrell’s quote is: “If I ever do get involved with somebody again, I will try as much as possible to shut my fucking mouth and stay fucking present. Love in action, man! Not love in fucking words.”
Be still my heart. Love in action, and not in words. Isn’t that what anyone is looking for? Words are so easy. I’m a writer … I know how easy it is to spew BS. I know that words don’t matter unless someone else puts meaning behind them. I can write about activism, but until I’m out holding a sign, it doesn’t matter. It’s the same with love.
You can tell me you love me, but if you don’t act the part…what am I going to believe? Your easy words or your hurtful, dismissive actions? We’re taught this from a very young age—it’s not what you say, it’s what you do.
I often think about people who don’t have the luxury of words. Then I launch into catastrophic thinking, because that is my favorite past time, and I think “What if everyone lost the ability to speak? Something is put in the water supply, or something and we all forget how to talk. Everything else is the same but we can’t speak, kind of like life before cell phones. Would I know you loved me? Would I be able to tell by the way you act, the priorities you have, the choices you make that I was important?”
We’re so technologically driven. If we’re not “official on Facebook” what are we? If I can look at your wall and not see a trace of me, do I even exist?
Be present, be there. Be willing. Shut up. Prove it. That’s all anyone wants, proof that when the music stops you’ll still be there. That when they fall you’re going to catch them, when you’re sitting in a cell they’re bailing you out. It’s easy to say you’ll be there … its showing up that’s hard.