Before you get all predictably romantic and assume that my tears are for your emotionally moving stories or even your sweeping string-orchestra overtures let me just assure you:
That is not the case.
You are a vicious and scheming liar.
I remember fighting for love. I remember compromise and passion and being the most unlikely pairing out there. I remember making it through hard times and still...
It wasn't enough.
That is where you take me, to my own failings.
Don't get me wrong, I believe in love. But what you show me isn't love. It's madness. It's irrational wonderful cinematic magic. And then makes me feel bad for not being able to recreate it.
This doesn't mean I'm going to stop watching you. Miss you taking the breath of the leading lady, or the sacrifice you demand from the hunk of the hour.... I sometimes need to be reminded how unrealistic my expectations can be...
No one is going to fly across the country for me, except my parents.
No one is going to write me letters from the grave.
No one is going to give up everything to be with me.
...And only my vanity would want such a thing. Give up everything? That is not what Love is about. Love is compromise, finding someone that fits into that last spot missing in your puzzle.... Not someone who is the whole picture (as you'd like me to believe).
Still I love/hate the grand gestures and heart wrenching pleading speeches, the last minute kisses and the weddings ruined by you. And I am a fan, for all I cry and beat my pillows at your impossible perfection.
S0 although I feel betrayed by life, it is not you who are in the wrong. You merely remind me of the times when Love... just wasn't enough.
It's not you. Really, I know you hear this all the time but it is me.
Keep on keeping on.