It is something that can’t be captured on camera, one that can not be stuffed into a two-hour reel of film. We may not be vibrant hues or swoon-worthy confessions, but we are real, and we are messy, and we are something more than Hollywood can handle.
If you’re going to blame someone, blame him. Blame the boy for leaving, for hurting you, for choosing someone else in the end. Blame him for getting you caught up in a game, for leading you on, for playing with your heart and then leaving it behind when he got bored.
I remember wondering how I could connect with someone so quickly, as if I’d known you my whole life and hadn’t just met you hours before. I still wonder if I’ll ever meet someone like that again.