In Abraham Lincoln’s life an unhappy incident made him write the below quote to his law partner:
“I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth.”
This was not during the distressing Civil War years (1860-65) but was written when Lincoln was a youth and his relationship with Mary Todd failed. I didn’t mean to simplify that Civil War years were less depressing, just to make a point what a relationship failure meant to the great man.
How he overcame it is a difficult question to answer. But interesting part is Lincoln married Mary Todd and had a happy life (happy? we could not say but a peaceful life) till his assassination (1865). This suggests us how heavy a relationship could be, obviously it can act both ways.
In our fast world we are seeing the negative aspect of relationship failure on the rise. A latest example in front of us is Jiah Khan’s suicide. What led to this is difficult to ascertain, but a strained relationship is the main factor.
The reasons for failures could not be generalized, but over expectations and possessiveness are the common denominators among all. One way it makes his/her spouse (in case of lovers it is their beloved) feel special; at the other end it impinge on their freedom as well.
Growing strains eventually result in the break-up. Our Indian society is slowly coming to terms with failed marriages in the form of divorce or mutual separation, but our pace is not in tune with the growing failures.
Now it is a need of the hour that our generation comes to live with relationship failures and breakups. Again we can take the leaf out of Lincoln. Reading his biography we see that Lincoln has as many as three failed relationships. An excerpt from the same:
“When he got to New Salem he fell in love with the tavern-keeper’s daughter, Ann Rutledge. Not long after they had become engaged, she was stricken with what was called “brain fever” and died within a few weeks”
“But slowly Lincoln recovered, and slightly more than a year later he was involved in another courtship, this time with Mary Owens, a well educated and refined woman from a wealthy Kentucky family. We know from surviving letters that, having involved himself to the point of engagement, Lincoln decided that he did not love Mary Owens and hoped to avoid marriage by convincing her that he was unworthy. When she proved noncommittal, he finally felt honor-bound to propose, and much to his astonishment and chagrin, she turned him down. He confessed to a confidante: ‘Others have been made fools of by the girls; but this can never be with truth said of me. I most emphatically, in this instance, made a fool of myself.’”
It is not difficult to guess what gave Lincoln the inner courage to take on his personal turbulence. He was determined that he was bound for something which was far more important than these failures. It will be fitting to give his speech as an illustration of the above point. The below is a part of his speech he gave Gettysburg on November 19, 1863 to dedicate the services on the civil war field:
It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot consecrate — we cannot hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.
