He keeps on waiting. He is debating whether he should go after the girl or let her go forever. His breathing turns into an unsettle storm while he realizes he cannot lose her. He takes his jacket and runs through the door. As he goes out to the streets where an infinite number of taxis pass by him. None of them seemed to notice him even though he is waving and screaming just as a desperate man would do.
Meanwhile, a broken-hearted girl is waiting for her flight that conveniently has just been delayed for unknown reasons. The man finally jumps in front of a cab, forcing it to stop and almost getting himself ran over. Consequently, he gets stuck in the chaotic traffic of the Manhattan jungle (because this stuff always happens in New York). He looks at his watch, nervous and impatient, and decides there is no time to lose or she will be gone forever. He jumps out of the car and starts running, zigzagging through the traffic to get to the airport. He spots a bike just standing there while a delivery man is tighting his shoes; he quickly hops in and steals it.
Somehow, he arrives to the airport without a single drop of sweat—of course. He decides to skip immigration by running through every security station with a dozen of security guards that seem to have failed P.E. in high school chasing him. He gets to the gate and stops the girl at the exact moment she is showing her ticket to the flight attendant, ready to go board. After a few meaningful words, a great apology and some heart-felt argumentations, she—with tears on her face—says he is the only one for her and that she loves him. To add the cherry on top, there is a magnificent kiss that is applauded by the people who are watching the show.
There are two types of girls in the world: the one who will be crying, eating chocolate while watching this scene, or the one who will be whispering to herself “shocker.” It is easier to say you are the first type of girl. Actually, it’s easier to say you were distracted with your phone and didn’t watch the end of the movie. However, I am somehow very sure I’m the second type—and I blame it on chick-flicks.
For a long time, I was so into chick flicks. It all started with Disney. Lovely princesses, handsome yet incredibly dumb princes, and a story that would have the same love message: that true love could happen in a day. I kind of believed it more than I should have. The fact is, looking at it from where I stand now, Disney movies and fairytales have led many little girls to believe that jumping in a relationship with someone who looked like a prince and talked like a prince would be their “happy ending.” That is not the case.
As I grew up, my film taste grew up as well. Princesses were replaced with beautiful real actresses, and princes were replaced with good-looking actors. I started picking up a pattern in all of these movies. Everything was smartly calculated to convince you, movie after movie, that “real love” was something that would knock on your door and simply be everything you wanted.
Why do you think women are high maintenance most of the time? Because they’re expecting something that would only happen in a Hollywood love story. That Leonardo DiCaprio would do the impossible to save you from drowning on the Titanic, or that Will Smith would jump off a moving car to tell you that he loves you like he does in Hitch.
As I watched all of these movies, I pictured my imaginary perfect man waiting for me all of those years like Ryan Gosling waited for Rachel McAdams in The Notebook. I waited for the guy that screwed up to make this big gesture and travel all the way to the other side of the world to find me and tell me he was sorry. I waited for a guy that had only met me once to fill my backyard with sunflowers and win me over like Ewan McGregor did in Big Fish.
Clearly, that didn’t happen. I realized I couldn’t base love on chick flicks (I don’t think anyone should), but I also realized when my dating life became a little bit more serious, the damage had already been done. I expected more than what love could give me. Today if a guy messes up, he FaceTimes you to tell you, “Sup? Are you still mad? Cause… I have Rangers tickets.” Which may work out for you baseball fans, but I guess it’s not good enough for me.
With time, I got used to the fact that no guy would be good enough and to get the chance to be with me, he would have to work really hard to find his way into my heart. And when I saw what the result of my high expectations were, I knew. Chick flicks ruined love for me.
Photo by: Michael Shuey