Ours was not a rom-com movie, where we get to have dozens of second chances and serendipitous meetings. Ours was not like in those movies, where we wouldn’t care about the people we hurt just so we get our happy ending.
Unlike in those flicks, I would not hurt and leave the man who helped me rebuild myself just so you can destroy me again. Nor would I forgive you so easily, nor believe that you have changed just because you cried in front of me.
I am not a rom-com heroine, unlike them, I do not spend half the screen time fretting if you love me or not. I would not go back to you and forget my dreams even if you ran after me to the airport with a bouquet of roses and a letter full of apologies. Because, like them, I gave you a lot of chances, but unlike them I gave up.
I am not a manic-pixie girl, or any type of female tropes you see in films. I am a mixture of everything; a conglomeration of ingenue, manic-pixie, bitch, with a dash of something else. But in a way, I am like them: a strong independent woman who knows what she wants.
You are not a rom-com hero. Unlike them, you did not change for the better at the half of our story. Unlike them, you have missed all the climactic points where you change from being a selfish boy to a sensitive man. Unlike them, your character did not have any development.
We did not have our rom-com ending, the one with the tacky pop music and sappy lines, and it will never happen.
Maybe we just have not yet reached the end of our stories. Maybe we are just minor characters in our respective films and we haven’t met our love teams yet. I do not know for sure, but all I know is that this plot will never be ours.