I was silent at the end of the movie while my best friend kept clapping her hands and exclaiming with her bright, lovely, eyes, “This was the best movie ever!” And it was, for me until about 15 minutes from the end when the male lead decided, (as they always do,) to go back to the female lead because love… well, it always wins over, right? Before he turned around to get in the car, (going 90mph,) to get her… I thought they’d go their separate ways and show us the possibility that no one ever goes backwards.
I couldn’t put my finger on exactly where the uncomfortableness was rising from. I can’t even say I’m newly dumped, because my life has been a streak of break-ups. And, that’s just not what happened. Every single one of them feel the same after a while. You give up, you shrug and eventually you play the lottery, again. I’m convinced that romantic love just doesn’t fit into the equation, anymore. There’s ‘love’ and then there’s ‘commitment,’ or whatever some people think that term represents. We’re in a society of fast wants and grocery-cart-style-dating. There’s a million different brands of yogurt on a shelf. If she isn’t the perfect taste of strawberry banana, you have your pick. I was not the right flavor of strawberry banana. I was runny, or too thick. I was inconsistent or an off-brand. I was speaking to a friend over im a few nights ago. I stared at the words I had written and pressed send. We were quiet for a while when we realized that it actually was true. Its easier to say harsh words and criticize, to make someone out to be a terrible person because they threw ‘good‘ away… like their wasteful or something for pitching an entire container of yogurt, But the fact is- he didn’t want the yogurt, I wasn’t his brand; he didn’t want me.
I was writing this post last night, walking out of the theater. I was going to tell you that the tears compromised an otherwise safe drive home, but I didn’t cry. I wanted to tell you that as I pulled up to my door, someone was waiting for me, with the speech from the movie, which involved such words as, “soul mate,” “great sadness” and “I’m a pretentious jerk.” But the truth was, my dry eyes pulled into the garage, I checked my mail and then I went to bed with notions of incredible word structures and adjectives. In truth, I didn’t wish for him, or for tears- just words to be able to put into thought process. In truth: It wasn’t about resolution, (that grocery cart had sailed.) It was about next time, and finding that magical moment where the ‘love’ ended, (because apparently love is a faucet to some people,) and where the agony of realizing you’d have to work at it began. It’s so much easier just to grab a different product. Choice, is what’s the failure of most relationships today.