If my life was a movie I’d think that the two of us are now in what people would often call the climax: the most exciting part of the movie, the part where the music becomes intense and though quite predictably, emotions would be running high. But we’re not, and it’s not exciting — it’s dreadful, and it always leaves a hollow feeling of fear in my stomach. I keep on saying that I know nothing and it’s true, I don’t know much and everything is so uncertain in every single aspect.

If this was a movie the next best thing to do is go up to you and tell you what I feel, with my eyes tearing up and with everyone else melting in the background. But it’s not, and I can’t do that, because that just spells disaster. In a movie, it’s okay to be afraid because happy endings exist but in real life, happy endings are just myths that we like making up so we can feel better about ourselves.

If all of this was a movie you and I would not be swimming in unsaid things and hidden feelings. But life is not a movie, and we’re not a bunch of characters acting out a perfectly written storyline. We’re in real life and although sometimes it’s as if we actually have a say with what’s going to happen, most of the time it definitely feels like everything is out of our hands.

And lastly, if this was a movie you’d want all of this as much as I do, and we’ll end up together no matter what. But again (and again) it’s not, and sadly, things usually — if not always — never work out that way.