And yet, I still cry at the movie trailer.

In the movies, the conflict is a misunderstanding that splits them apart for 20 minutes. In real life, the conflict is learning how to apologize differently because you finally understand their childhood wounds.

A home doesn’t need a running jump into a fountain. It needs the locks fixed. It needs the heat turned on before you wake up.

After twelve years, you realize you are living two parallel romantic storylines.

But I’ve changed my mind.