“I wrote you everyday for a year.”

I sighed inwardly, the waterworks ready to start. And then it happened.

BAM!

The two were kissing--making out in the pouring rain.

The tears began, pouring down harder the more and more Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams kissed. It was so heart wrenchingly romantic that I almost wanted to puke up the chicken and egg rolls I had for the afternoon

Why couldn’t my life be like a romantic movie?

My knight and shining armor would be much like Ryan Gosling’s character, the poor boy that had nothing but the sweet memories of a summer he shared with a privileged, beautiful girl that was on a whole higher class than him. And to wait, for those years, those many years, for her to come back to him. Writing to her for a whole year, repeatedly sending letter after letter, waiting for the slightest of responses, only to be so blatantly rejected but the hundreds and hundreds of letters she had never sent him.

And then, one bright, sunny afternoon. She arrives on his property, looking older and more beautiful than she did back when they were children, smiling at him.

To him, he must’ve thought, she’s back.

And the tears that I had been crying earlier, that had dried up for some time, began spilling over the brims of my eyes, the tears flowing down even more fluently than before. Something told me that I was no longer crying for Ryan Gosling’s pain and agony, but rather my own.

And what kind of pain or agony was that?

I was free. I was lifted. The weight was gone and I could do anything that I wanted. My life had finally begun for myself. Everything was great.

So why did I feel worse without his presence?