Goodbye facebook. For now.

You ever watch a chick flick and you notice there's always these little romantic moments and gestures that seemingly presents itself at the most inopportune times within the movie?

Oh come on, you know which ones I'm talking about. The ones where you know can only happen in movies? I think relationships are a grim reminder that no matter how hard you wish for it, life will never play out to those cloud nine ideals.  I only wish we could live in the movies.

Kinda brings me back to an old entry from last year:

Although I believe in it, I've given up on that delirious, no holds barred, achingly perfect love that they show us in movies and photographs and novels. The kind of love that you drown in, where every moment apart feels like an eternity of longing, where every reunion makes your heart race and your loins murmur. Sure, lust and infatuation can simulate many of those sensations. But that kind of true love? Only in books, on screen, and captured in brief electric moments on film, my friend. Oh and rarely, and I mean rarely, in real life. I still believe that much, that there exists that kind of passionate all encompassing love.

But will I have it? I've become either too jaded or too cynical or too naive or all of the above to truly believe that I'll have that kind of love. I'm much more practical than that. Oh, love may once again step through my door, but I imagine it will be the kind that settles into the couch and flips on the tv for a game and some beers. It'll be a love of warm socks, late dinners, silly movies, and snuggling. A love that may or may not have a happy ending. And I'm learning to live with that. It ain't so bad, is it?

Matinée please.