Stories Have Many Layers

I received a story as an email. I'll transcribe it as best as I can here because I'm too lazy to undredge it.

A girl was blind and was really sad about it. She kept complaining to her boyfriend that her life was not worth living and she was not worth being loved because she was blind. One day she got the news - There was an eye donor! She got new eyes, and the first thing she saw was her boyfriend, who bravely had removed his own eyes and given them to her. Then the boyfriend killed himself because she had said blind people were not worth being loved.

Now, what kind of person you are defines what you'd think after reading this story. People of a more romantic bent might think something like:

Oh my god, this is so true and so sad. People should see the good things in their lives and not complain of the bad ones.

Then again, they might be more of a cynical outlook. They might be thinking.

Man, there is no way no guy would ever do that for his girlfriend. And then kill himself after? That's retarded. And who the hell does eye transplants anyway?

It's a valid outlook, I'm not complaining. Each person can get their own meaning out of this story. But what I got out of it, as a person, was:

Why the hell didn't he give her just one eye?