So, I've discovered the problem- I've become a romantic. I don't know how it happened. It's so unlike me. I'm kinda depressed about it.
It all started around 1 AM last night. I was flipping through my DVR looking to delete movies I was no longer interested in, and also something to watch (Bye, Bye "Puppet Master" and "Hellraiser III"). The available space on my DVR is laughable, though for those of you who know how many movies are on my Netflix queue, you would hardly be surprised.
[side note: did you know there is a maximum number of movies you can have in your queue at any one time? I do. Twice]
So I decided to watch "Toi & Moi" because it had been collecting dust in my DVR since I got cable 7 or 8 months ago and it was only 90 mins. It's the typical romantic comedy as told en francais: Guy and Girl bumble back and forth until on day, just as one is about to leave, the other grabs and kisses them full on the mouth. Depending on what film you're watching, they are either long lost loves ("A Christmas Tale", "Love Me If You Dare"), have never met before ("Amelie", "Happenstance", "Y tu Mama Tambien", "la Dolce Vita"), or one, or both, are married or in relationships ("Indochine", "Love Songs"). The last being the case here (and I think very French indeed). I squealed in delight at this very act! Like, a girl.
My life is the sad, poorly written indie film you turn off 15 minutes in; when it longs to be un film français. Passion. Heartache. Betrayal. Redemption.
We live in a bubble. Never socializing outside our group, we wouldn't even know how to begin, driving everywhere, afraid to eat alone. We, I, am closed to new opportunities. Instead, I sit in near dark, drinking Whiskey, and writing in my notebook. I get hung up on things that never were and completely blasé about those that have happened. A French film would be great for me- I can be self-indulgent, depressed, smoke. At a crucial point, not too far into the narrative, a lovely, handsome, loner type guy will show up and we'll walk awkwardly down the street or drink coffee in a cafe. He could even turn out to be someone I already know, now we're in the right place to admit our feelings to one another...
How can one person be capable of holding grudges and complete apathy at the same time? I can, although it is always safer to assume I'm over whatever "disagreement" we may have had, rather than believe I still harbour some ill will. Most likely, I didn't care either way in the first place.
For that's the truth of the matter. I am selfish and vain. I don't care for the misfortune of strangers. I care only about what effects my directly, and even then only in the moment. I always wondered if you could be borderline sociopathic, but the DSM-IV doesn't recognize that condition so I guess not.
And that, is why I must live in a movie, a foreign film, where relations are much different. People aren't weighed down with empty talk simply to fill the air. Everything that's said has weight. More is often said in the space between words then in the words themselves. In this fantasy, I'll have a casual job that affords me to work from home, and live over a grocer, and spend the evenings sitting at home or in a cafe drinking and smoking and arguing with friends. It seems like something I should be able to have here, in reality. Yet, I spend my evenings as described above, or if I do go out, the conversation usually stays "safe" and "simple". The last time I tried to get in a metaphysical argument, the other person left (and not just the room).
C'est ma seul rêve, ma rêve isolé.