People want to fall in love in a movie.
We want the excitement of a will-they-won’t-they situation that almost always ends in they will; the lust and passion found in a forbidden love, the thrill of going against all odds come hell or high water.
Everyone has at least one fantasy that springs from movies. I know someone who dreams about a kiss in the rain , and while cheesy, I have to admit it has its charm.
But nobody deserves just a romcom kind of love. You deserve more.
There’s a reason they’re called feel good flicks. It’s because it plays on people’s longing for the life-altering love they’re waiting to experience in real life. And love is really all that and more.
The keyword being ‘more’.
Movies have all the highlights of falling in love. They have to. They’re only about 2 hours long. But if you want the earth-shattering, life-altering, kind of love, you’re going to have to make the relationship last for more than just a few hours.
I have yet to watch a romantic movie that has days filled with boring stuff. Week-long stretches of unfortunate events that bring out the worst in each other. A movie that’s one long fight about why you keep forgetting to flush the toilet, or why there’s only one square of tissue roll left.
There’s no music when you kiss. There’s no musical score for that “A-ha!” moment you realize you’re in love. There’s only the thumping of your heart racing quietly in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach no one else can feel, that filter in which you view your loved one’s face that makes them more beautiful in your eyes than they probably are to most.
The fireworks-kind-of-love is actually quiet. It doesn’t boast of its presence, doesn’t require bold declarations, or grand gestures. Its charm is found in the quiet calm of normal, in the everyday ordinary, in the small act of thoughtfulness to leave you a Kitkat in the ref.
When you feel the butterflies from simple things like that, you know you’re living the fantasy every romantic movie was built on-- true love.