i have wanted my life to be a romantic comedy for as long as i can remember. i always dreamed of roaming the aisles of a book store, sipping on a hot cup of tea, and making eye contact with the cute guy next to me. i would say something awkward and he would laugh and then the rest would be history. and as horribly embarrassing as it is to admit, i've spent some serious time cruising around barnes and noble, more than i care to share, hoping to make my romance happen.
because i love romance movies. i love everything about them. i love the moment when two lovers first lay eyes on each other. i love the first dates and all the cheesy dialogue. and as much as i hate the drama that rips them apart, i love that in the end they find their way back together. i love it all.
but life isn't like the movies. i know that isn't some unbelievable realization but i have been thinking a lot about why i love romantic movies so much. (or why i only watch the first half of titanic.) it's because everything is good. and it always ends well. or in titanic's case, the last imagine in my mind is jack kissing rose's hand at the bottom of the staircase. but unlike movies, that's not how life works out. because in movies when things blow up and people cry and fall apart it only lasts about twenty minutes. then he comes rushing back in for her and you know how the rest goes.
if only we could trade our pain for movie time.
just a quick bathroom trip and popcorn refill later and everything is okay again.
i guess the saddest thing about real life is he doesn't always come rushing back in. sometimes those painful blowups last days and weeks and months. and they don't always resolve. and they never quite stop hurting. or when he does come rushing back in... it's too late. the hurt has taken up a comfortable residence in the heart where butterflies once fluttered.
i always feel bad for the other woman in movies. no, not the "other woman" that is cheating with someone. i'm talking about the unnamed girl that is with the guy after he moved on from the girl that broke his heart. you've seen it a million times in movies. two lovers have a falling out. and the movie shows them each living separately. the guy who had his heart broken finds another girl and they are happy together. but the main girl finally realizes she was wrong and that she did in fact love him and rushes to tell him. and he says he missed her too and they live happily ever after. but what about unnamed girl? what did she do wrong? she loved him and helped heal his heart and invested her heart into him only to have him break hers. where is her movie? where is the sympathy for her?
i'm getting damn tired of all these unrealistic expectations of love.
life isn't perfectly scripted hair brushes behind the ear and the most romantic moments are not usually spent under a star filled sky.
pain last longer than a few minutes and sometimes he never fights for you.
even if i don't watch it; jack still dies at the end of titanic and she held onto the locket for all those years because she was never quite ready to let go of him.
maybe i'm cynical.
but it's probably just the hurt seeping in.