Let’s face it: Valentine’s Day is overrated. For all those who have been dumped, crushed, and heartbroken or are just miserable in this season of over-affectionate lovey-dovey crap, take heart! You’re not alone. This post is part of Converge Magazine’s cynical celebration of heartbreak.
I know our relationship lasted half the length of Kim Kardashian’s last marriage. And I know I it ended without any explanation.
You see, our love was like the Loch Ness monster — everyone knew it was a hoax, but I truly wanted it to be real.
But here’s the thing:
You’re not real.
You have to remember something here: I was in college. Kids do stupid things when they’re in college. They watch three seasons of The Office (US) in two days with limited food, sleep, and bathroom breaks. It was a time full of growing independence, blossoming confidence, and right before Facebook got wise enough to realize people were creating fake profiles for television characters.
I know you must have wanted our love to be more than just a Facebook joke. When my status was updated: “Meghan Mellinger is now in a relationship with Jim Halpert” you must have hoped that I wanted to share my life with you and not just a good laugh.
I have to confess: I still remember the first night we met. Sitting in the lounge of my college dorm, there you were on the television screen: tall and lanky, with your quirky facial expressions. You were a hopeless romantic and I quickly became hopelessly yours.
It’s a sickness really. Loving fictional characters. It’s a problem rampant among females that never goes away no matter how old you get. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve dreamed about being the hummus to a certain Peeta from the Hunger Games. But I’ve already shattered your heart into pieces that rival a 1000 count jigsaw puzzle so I won’t divulge the visions I have for our bakery with you.
I know what you may be thinking. But don’t worry — I have been interested in real men. Confession number two: I dated one immediately after we broke up. Confession number three: he was the reason why we broke up.
Cue pouring salt on open wound.
I have to admit, I continued to stalk you for a few years after our breakup. Every Thursday night actually. And then I found out you got married to the girl you had been pining after for years. I even watched your wedding and yes, there were tears.
Eventually, I moved on. Also, Michael Scott left. So the theme song of Titanic plagued my mind as I let you go and sink to the bottom of a fictional sea.
If my apology is worth anything in the fictional world, then here it goes: I’m sorry our love couldn’t be real.
I’m sure we’ll run into each other again. You are pretty heavily syndicated.
Forever fictionally yours,
Flickr photo (cc) by doobybrain