Romantic comedies (romcoms) in general have always held a soft spot for me. That might be because of the fact that I am a romantic at heart. I always have been. You know the weird souls who love autumn and talk about depth. Those who relate more with Keats than Jobs. Those who fall in love with someone too quickly and take ages to come out of it. Like Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) in (500) Days of Summer. One of those weirdos.
The fact that this is a five-year old personal blog without a single clear mention of my romantic endeavours is ironic. Almost like I was trying too hard to keep it outside the domain of this blog. As if I was trying too hard to pronounce it insignificant. Funnily enough, the only thing that has stayed constant in my life since the last decade is probably how screwed up things have been when it comes to love.
You’re probably wondering, “You’re 20. What do you know of love?” and that is fair judgement because when it comes to that four letter word I’m still Jon Snow. Deliberate pop-culture references aside, like every other millennial, I grew up in a world overflowing with information and with information a lot of complex concepts were introduced early to us. One of which was, romance.
Love started early in my life or maybe I have abused a strong word too much over the last 20 years of my existence that it has started to sound really casual to me and those around. The gist of it being that I’ve been in love about eight times and I’m only twenty years old.
Anyway, coming back to the topic of the post – romcoms. Romcoms have been a significant part of my movie-watching experience since the last year mainly because of a certain someone who adored romcoms. So, I watched as many romcoms as I could just so that I could recommend some to her. The day only came once when I gave her like 30 romcom recommendations, I doubt she’s even watched even one of them.
Isn’t it cheesy? It is. That’s the thing about us kids in love – looking at you Shawn Mendes – We hate cheesy. We absolutely despise cheesy and that belief only sticks with us until we get butterflies. Then, we’re all for cheesy because that’s what romcoms teach us, right? A character who hates tacky romantic practices suddenly learns they spontaneously started doing all that and more once they met this special someone. If you’ve really the time to spare, read this vague and very corny letter that I wrote for someone when I was visiting Loveland. Expand the box below to read it. I just feel like since I never gave it to them, I should still send it out there. At least then, it got sent somewhere.
You can choose to skip it if you want since it’s not exactly something straight out of 10 Things I Hate About You. Click/tap the arrow to expand, if you do choose to read it.
I love you.
I first saw you last summer and you caught my eye, sitting quietly at the last bench. Decided to not talk to you, I didn’t have the guts to. It took me one whole day of thinking about it and collecting all the courage I had to try and talk to you but some fuck up with the attendance sheets stopped me and I saw you walk away. “Never mind”, I thought to myself and I decided to not be around you for a while.
I forgot about you.
Till one day, you came up to me and said “Hi”. We were standing in the queue for dinner and I turned to you and I swear I was wondering if you noticed me being all red and flushed but I was glad you didn’t. You looked beautiful that day, orange suits you, you know? So does that toothy smile you do when you do it intentionally. You’re just perfection. I still remember thinking about you that entire night. I stayed away though.
Until one day, I got the courage of sending you a message on Facebook and damn, was I grateful for that thought. You replied and I got to learn a bit about you. You don’t meet someone who shares all your interests every day but I met you and I was so pumped about it. It was happiness, honestly and one of the best conversations I’ve ever had with a stranger.
Till a few days later, when you were not a stranger anymore. I barely knew you. Just some stuff on the surface, yet I could swear that you were the person I wanted to be with. I was naïve in that thought but I was never wrong. I could tell you stuff easily and I don’t even trust people. You had that kind of effect on me.
By the time I realized all of that, I saw you were with someone else. It kind of crushed my heart. I didn’t know you were officially together until a bit later on. By the time I had already told you about how I felt and though I know it was early, it was true. A few days later I saw you with him and I could list a thousand reasons for why he was wrong for you but I didn’t because you were smiling and looking at him and even though I hated it, I didn’t want to ruin that smile. So, I stood there for a second, and decided to not look back at you. You were happy with him, I couldn’t destroy that. So, I stayed away. I stopped talking. I cut all contact. To be honest, I stopped looking at you altogether. I avoided you intentionally.
Months passed. My feelings did too. Or so I thought because even after all those months of not talking to you and getting on with my life, I swear, the first time I talked to you after all that time, they came rushing. Like they were kept at bay, in some cage and you just released them. I hid them though and tried my best to not talk to you in some way that might make you uncomfortable. But you know, the more I talked to you, the more I realized how much we match, like peas in a pod, pieces of a puzzle, and a thousand of those metaphors. Almost like, we were made for each other.
A month passed and I could share almost anything with you. I could share all awkward stories, my most shameful moments, times I am not entirely proud of, my dreams. My heartbreaks, my demons, my angels. All of them. I could just open my mouth and things came out. Things I’ve never shared with anyone with this fluidity. As if, you’re some kind of witch who’s put some weird spell on me. And not just that, I could empathize with you too, we shared the same fears, the same dreams, the same issues. As if I was meant to find you.
All my life, I have been a non-believer, at least for most of it. Till I met you, you made me believe. Remember when we talked about destiny? I stayed up all night and the only thing that kept going through my head was, was I meant to meet you and have this conversation at that precise time. Because if just one of those factors had shifted, the events that had happened to me recently, you not being there to tell me destiny and fate exist, the hour not being late and me not being vulnerable – I would not have thought about it so much. I wouldn’t have started believing in destiny.
Till I realized, it was my destiny to meet you and all of it suddenly made sense. That leap of faith a year ago, that fall, that getting back up and coming here, near you. It was all for that moment. For you.
Remember when we talked about world domination? It was almost perfect. You had a notebook that said the same thing I did. If that isn’t a sign, nothing is. You know what? There are thousands of signs like that, it’s almost movie-like, every single day I see one of them. As if the universe is smiling at us, chuckling at our stupidity. How we just don’t appear to meet. How me, the coward cannot express how I feel about you to you, the fool, properly.
You know you’re the first person I’ve met who hasn’t called me boring. It might not be a big deal for you, but it is for me. It is the biggest deal for me because if you don’t find me boring, that means you understand me and if that is true that means you’re the only one who can for not even my mother has ever really understood me.
I’m lost, you know? But when I talk to you it feels like I can do anything in the world. I know you have goals too and I respect them and that this sounds selfish but I want to be the one by your side when you achieve them and I have goals too and I want you to be there, by my side. I want us to be that unstoppable force nature has never seen. It almost feels as if I was inviting you and saying, together we can rule the world.
Coming on to what happens when I look at you. Remember the day I complimented you on your hair? You probably won’t. You must receive a thousand compliments like those in a day for you’re like a queen and we, the peasants. Anyway, remember that day? So, I saw you, you were wearing purple and I swear when I was looking at you, I swear it was hard to not just grab you and kiss you. You were that beautiful. You know, there’s this thing about you, you’re adorable and beautiful at the same time. Beautifully adorable, maybe or adorably beautiful. I don’t know really but you’re the only place, those two coexist in such unison.
It’s so cute when you smile and you move your nose a little. It’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. You know how I have to explain every joke to you? I’d do that all my life if I could, It’s like our thing. You know, you’re this happy, dumb and gorgeous person, a stable triangle of all three of those.
That reminds me, you know, I have never seen anyone who talks about the Bermuda Triangle like you do. I have never met anyone who talks about the Bermuda Triangle like I do. That is, until I met you.
You’re the kind of girl, who makes all the voices, the worries shut down. As if you control the demons I couldn’t tame all those years. As if, I was meant to find you to shut them all down. You’re the kind of girl, I’d show off to the world for they would know and I would know, that there is no way possible you could fall for me. Like I fell for you. But you would have and it would be so awesome because you would be the person I’d cherish the most.
I’d stay by you and find moments, the most clichéd moments in the history of mankind, if I can and make you believe in love again. Make you believe that people can love hard. I will kiss you in the rain, I would kiss you good morning, I would dance with you, I would take you on candlelight dinners and do everything those movies taught us to. You’re the kind of girl who makes doing all of that worth it. For when I look at you, I get this fuzzy feeling where I want to be the one who wakes up next to you for the next 50 years or so and no, I cannot promise you infinity but I can promise you unending love. I will stay by your side till you want me to.
But of course, you don’t feel all of that, right? All the moments, all the conversations, everything, you don’t look at it the way I do and I know it’s sad but it is the way it is, right? So, I know you don’t want me, the way I want you. I’m just a friend to you. I’m replaceable. Before you ask me to, I’ll leave and never again will I look your way but I’ll remember you for I lost my perfect person but I won’t blame you, I’ll blame those that came before me, friends and partners, those who made you stop believing that true love exists. Anyway, I’ll just be on my way now. I’ll just leave. I’ll say it one last time though,
I love you.
Two thousand words of rephrasing the same thing aside. Don’t you think we like romcoms because nothing will ever be as perfect and streamlined as it is in those movies. No matter what happens in the protagonist’s life, somehow, someway, they end up with the correct person. Definitely, Maybe. Liberal Arts. Sleeping with Other People. That Awkward Moment. You name it and the end is probably the same. Romcoms are deceptive. Real-life is less magical in that sense. It’s messy, people stop talking, they cry, they shout and scream. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows.
If I were to define what love is at the point where I currently am in my life. I’d quote myself from an IM conversation I had last night. Love is a chemically induced symbiotic relationship based on the concentration of trust and importance in one single individual.
In this age of communication, where there is no longing for your lover like Romeo and Juliet longed for each other, where you can Facetime and chat and do what not online, where you can even thumb kiss each other from your smartphones, the only thing that induces love is how much time you spend talking to someone.
The more you open up to one single person, the more important they get, the more you trust them. Meanwhile, your body is on a cocktail of different chemical reactions happening in sync with the person acting as stimulus for said reactions. After a while you’re at a loss for words for who they are to you and then you abuse the four letter word – love because the movies taught you so.
It’s funny, right? The person who wrote the last few paragraphs had written the letter you just skipped over because it’s too long. A living irony because of a sudden change in outlook.
Maybe perhaps next month I run into someone and the mellow soundtrack starts playing and everything is bright and beautiful again. Perhaps, I’ll start watching romcoms again but for now, I’m on a hiatus from romcoms.