Tragedy? Comedy?

A tragedy. A comedy. All but separated by a fine line.

A beautiful romance, a tragic triangle. A Shakespearean tragedy that befalls the lives of the young and beautiful. We sympathise with them, we worry for them. We wonder how their entanglements will end. Whenever they need an understanding ear to listen to their distress, or a shoulder to cry on, we are ready to offer ours. We are keen to help them lighten their burden, albeit only by the simple act of listening. Their moans mingle with ours. Their tragedy has an impact on the people around them.

A romance, a triangle. In the form of an aged Romeo and Juliet. A tragedy? Nay. How often have we laughed at their antics? Gossiped about the outcome? Yes, we wondered how it would end, but more often in mirth. The blush on wrinkled cheeks is not to be compared with the blush on alabaster cheeks. The understanding ear and the shoulder are still offered, but with a snigger not straying far. We could barely supress a shudder and a giggle at the terms of endearment that fall from their lips.

Thus, the tragedy becomes a comedy.