I love When Harry Met Sally. It's a great movie. My dream, as far as relationships go. But, clearly bullshit. I got into an fight with my best friend about whether or not the ending of that movie was even realistic. I said, "Yes! I can totally believe two best friends can finally get together." In my head thinking, two best friends like sayyyy, ummmm... you and I, you big fucking idiot. His response only made me sad, "It's totally bullshit, you would never be sexually attracted to someone you've been with for that long. They would become like family members or something. It would be so gross. It would be like if you and I got together, you know?" Then I feel my heart sinking down to my chest, my face burning, I want to cry, but, I say, "Yeah, totally, totally gross." Why do I love him? I'm sick, I'm sick in my head. That has to be it. I'm a glutton for punishment.
I mean, I don't know what I'm waiting for now? It's clear that he's never going to have that movie moment, where he realizes that everything he was looking for was right in front of him the whole time. And In the mean time, I'm just going to sit here and date losers and douche bags, hoping that he'll man up. I mean, it's clear to me now that his type is the sweet, quiet, brown blob of pretty and perfect.
That's just never going to be me. I'm like him, but, with a vagina. Maybe he doesn't want to be with himself. I guess it's time to let go of this silly fairy tale. He's never going to have a Harry moment. I'll just waste my time waiting for that.
It's funny, the little girl I watch when I'm not at the laundromat says that it's just like a Taylor swift song. It's sad when your love life is like a Taylor Swift song. I think the only person that still has hope for my best friend and I is the little girl I watch. She's not letting go of the dream. It makes me want to hold on to it too. Even if it's totally retarded.
