What Is The Moral Lesson Of The Film Forrest Gump?

“I know four men who will be the perfect men to help you complete the tasks on your list.” It was that sentence that started everything. Or maybe it was my sudden need for adventure or the fact that my life was falling apart. I’m a baker. I love my bakery, but my feelings got all mixed up when my best friend died in a freak accident. In order to honour my best friend, I decided to complete her bucket list. I never expected to fall in love with four strangers. A relationship with different men will never work, right? Trigger Warning: Contains MM & The Mention of SA and Suicide (not detailed, just mentioned briefly)

Leo inherits his late brother's position as Alpha after seven years of dating me. He also inherits his brother's wife and the pack's former Luna, Jasmin. Each time he sleeps with her, he comforts me gently. "You're my only mate, Mia. Once Jasmin gets pregnant and gives birth to Blazetooth Pack's heir, I'll hold the marking ceremony with you." He tells me that's the only condition his family asked of him before allowing him to inherit the position of Alpha. Over the six months after returning to Blazetooth Pack, he sleeps with Jasmin a hundred times. He starts with only spending one night a month with her to sleeping with her every night. Jasmin was finally found pregnant on the 100th night of my staying up the whole night waiting for him. At the same time, I receive news of her and Leo holding the marking ceremony. Upon hearing this, my son asks in confusion, "Didn't they say Dad is having the marking ceremony with the Luna he loves? Why isn't he here to take us home yet?" "Because I'm not the Luna he loves." I caress his head. "That's okay, though. I'll take you back to a place that we can really call home." What Leo doesn't know is that I'm the only daughter of the Alpha King. I've never cared about being Blazetooth Pack's Luna.

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.

To take care of my mother after she fell and injured herself, I turned down a promotion and took a week off work to stay by her side. On the day she was discharged from the hospital, she smiled and handed me a small envelope. “Suzy, you’ve worked hard these past few days. This is just a little something from me. Go treat yourself to something good.” I wiped my hands, a quiet warmth spreading through my chest. When I opened the envelope, I froze for a moment. Inside was $2. Still, I told myself it didn’t matter. The amount wasn’t important. What mattered was the thought behind it. But the very next day, while scrolling through social media, I came across a post from my younger brother, the one who hadn’t shown his face at the hospital even once. Nine photos filled the post, all of them showing off a sprawling luxury mansion. In the center was a photo of the purchase contract. The caption read: “Officially the owner of a $2 million riverfront house. Big thanks to Mom for the support!”

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

Running late for work, I had no choice but to call an Uber. As luck would have it, my boss turned out to be my Uber driver. We stared at each other awkwardly. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Let me guess... running late?" Me: ... Later, he docked my pay. I gave him a one-star review.