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To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after."
Why is it, that everywhere Jack goes, Jill follows?
Shouldn't Jill make her own decisions? Shouldn't she go where she wants, not just where Jack leads her? Jill really should just stand up for herself, without following Jack's footsteps, and lead her own life.
But what if Jill doesn't want to? What if she's happy going where Jack goes, just because she loves him, and would give up anything, even her own dreams, just to be near this boy, just to be close enough to breathe in his scent? What if she doesn't mind climbing up a stupid, godforsaken hill, fetching a fucking pail of water, just because he wanted to? What if she did everything for him, everything he asked, and more importantly, everything he didn't ask, even when he didn't give her so much as a backwards glance, just so she could be noticed by his own sweet eyes?
Of course, this poem is based on history, merely cleaned up a bit, and turned nursery rhyme, just for the sake of little kiddies. The story behind the poem is that of King Louis the XVI - who was beheaded during the Reign of Terror in 1793. Naturally, his wife, Queen Marie Antoinette, was beheaded afterwards - another Jill, following the shadowed life of the man she loved.
"And Jill came tumbling after"
Is it in the genetics of all women, to get in over their heads with a significant other?
And sometimes the feeling is mutual, from both parties, and I deem the woman sane.
But in the cases of when the male is completely uninterested, and the female still continues stumbling after him, with her heart in her hand, dropping it every now and then, but dusting if off so that it seems as "good as new" - then, and only then, will I deem said woman; insane.
It is these insane women - the Jills out there - who usually fill the largest percentile of the westernised teenage population. The Jills who can't get it through their thick skulls that they don't have a chance with Jack, yet refuse to give up, always sparking a new flame of hope, whenever said other utters her name (be it to her or about her), or even looks in her direction (be it at her, or through her).
Of course we've all been a Jill at one point in our lives. Whether our significant others turned out to be Jacks, or Prince Charmings, is what will keep us with the title of Jill, or rip away the stereotype with just satisfaction, so that we become those princesses who ride off into the sunset.
And you may think that it could be the Jacks' faults. That it is the men who are either the sane or insane ones. But was it Jack who asked Jill to become completely infatuated? No. Jill did it. On her own. It is merely Jill's judgement on what kind of guy Jack is, before she gives up her life to be near him.
Because Jack had never wanted to fetch a pail of water. He was merely using Jill to get it for him. Manipulating her feelings so she would do his bidding. Because even if Jack hadn't fallen down the hill first, he still would have pushed her down it eventually. He always does.
"Up Jack got and home did trot,
As fast as he could caper.
He went to bed and bound his head,
With vinager and brown paper."
So whatever happened to poor Jill?
