| So, suddenly deciding to go see a chick flick tonight probably wasn't the best idea. It was fun, and I enjoyed hanging out with my roommate... and our spontaneous ice cream date at Friendly's afterwards. I admit, I'm a romantic at heart... I do like the sappy and romantic movies sometimes. (Of course, there are other days when I just want to watch something that is pure adrenaline or sci fi). Chick flicks are so predictable-- whatever the plot, the girl always ends up with the cute guy that she has fallen in love with, even if it isn't the guy she originally thought she liked. Seriously, it always works out. And you can usually guess pretty early on which girl will be with which guy by the end of the film. Whether it's my eternal optimism or my romantic side shining through, there are times when I'm just really in the mood for such movies. And I like them. I like the fact that love always wins out. I like them, that is, until the credits start to roll. Because then I'm left with the ever-present realization that my life is not a movie. Tonight we went to see "27 Dresses" (spoiler alert!). Jane, the main actress, has been the maid of honor in twenty-seven weddings, partly because she has never told anyone "no". She has a gigantic crush on her boss, but has never done anything about it. All of a sudden, her younger sister, a ditzy but gorgeous model, shows up and quickly ends up engaged to said boss. Jane's world falls apart as she watches her sister live the life that she was never brave enough to attempt. Kevin enters the picture as a journalist who covers the wedding page but is to cynical to believe in love and marriage. Eventually, Jane and Kevin end up falling in love (though it takes them awhile to figure out that they're meant to be together), he teaches her to say "no", and she crashes her sister's engagement party. Jane and Kevin's budding relationship is threatened by an article that he had written about her getting published -- of course, she thinks he's a jerk, etc. But in the end, they still love each other in spite of their quirks and cynicism... it works out and they get married, presumably with a happy-ever-after kind of life. Wonderful. Beautiful. So glad that it worked out and they ended up together. But I'm left contemplating my own life. Realizing that I'm 22, about to graduate from college, and have not even been on a date in almost four years. A large chunk of my friends either got married last summer, will get married in the next six months, or are in significant relationships. I'm happy for them--sincerely, truly, honestly joyful for them. And I don't mind helping them talk through relationship problems or try to figure things out. But, just once, I wish it would be the other way around. I wish I was the one calling with a guy problem... or that I was the one feeling nervous and anxious about a new guy showing up in my life. It's not that I really even want a long-term relationship right now. Honestly, I don't. I'm planning to spend the next year abroad and then don't have any real plans for life after that. I don't know where I'll be, what I'll be doing, how long I'll be doing it, or if I'll be able to have significant contact outside my service placement. I don't want a long list of commitments hanging over my head when I come back to the states. I have to remind myself sometimes that I haven't really wanted a relationship during college, that I've been content without one and that I love the spontaneity it allows me. But then, I remember too, that it hasn't ever really been my choice. It isn't like I've turned down any guys who asked me out -- no, it's just that no one has been interested. I start to wonder sometimes what it is that all my friends seem to be doing so right that I apparently just haven't figured out. I don't want anything major--I really don't have any desire for a committed long-term relationship right now--but every once in awhile, it would be nice just to go out on a date and have a good time, or at least, to have the option of doing so. But, my life is not a movie... that girl doesn't always find the perfect guy in real life.
The other chick flick-type movie I've been thinking about a lot lately is an all-time favorite, "The Princess Bride". Lately, when I fall into bed exhausted at night, one scene as been replaying in my mind. At the beginning of the movie, Buttercup is utterly oblivious to the fact that Westley, who she calls "Farm Boy," actually loves her. Every time she commands him to do something, he responds "As you wish." One day, all of a sudden, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish", what he meant was, "I love you." And then, even more amazing, she realized that she loved him too. Later in the movie, it is this line again, "As you wish," that allows Buttercup to realize that the Dread Pirate Roberts is actually her dear Westley in disguise. Yada, yada, yada... it all ends happily ever after. This line from the movie, "That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying 'As you wish,' what he meant was, 'I love you.'" keeps running through my mind as I fall into exhausted sleep. Because I realize that I do it too, that even though I can't express my love, that I use other words to say it. Words that only I (and the roommates who see right through my charade) know the actual meaning of. Simple, unambiguous, safe words. Or even without words. I can say "I love you" with a smile, a touch, a glance. It's the kind of love that I'm not supposed to feel, that should have died away a long while ago. Love that I tried to crush, but which has only grown and deepened. The kind of love that lets me honestly hope for the best when he falls for another girl; the kind that keeps me up at night worried about the direction he's headed; the kind that wishes only good and hopeful things for him, even if they take him far from me; the kind that hides itself behind phrases of friendship and care; the kind that suppresses its own desires because that seems most helpful to him. But some days, I wish that it was safe to say those words, and I wish that the feelings were returned. What kind of obscure catch 22 have I roped myself into that the most loving thing is never to risk expressing that love?
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