It Only Happens in the Movies

“Be careful, Jessie,” I said. “All I can say is, if he did it to Mum, he can do it to you. The years are long. See how much he loves you in ten years’ time, see if he gives you everything he’s promised.”

“Dad. You can’t. You just…can’t… expect me to accept everything. Jessie. What you’ve done. How you’ve treated Mum. You’ve got to put us first sometimes. We’re still your family!”

“Your mother and her…drama is not my concern any more.”

“YOU CAUSED HER FUCKING DRAMA.”

“I’M STILL YOUR DAUGHTER, DAD, DON’T TAKE THE HOUSE. DON’T DO THIS. DON’T CHOOSE THAT BITCH OVER US.”

“You know whoever he is, he’s an idiot,”

“Now, who would be stupid enough to make you an ex-anything?”

“Cheesy line, Winters.”
“Oh, you can talk Mr Ikea Now Has A National Shortage of Tea Lights.”

The bright spring sunshine disoriented me and hurt my eyes, like it always does when you step out of a cinema. Emerging into the real world. Where the lines aren’t scripted, where the characters’ motives don’t always make sense, where the lighting isn’t flattering, where boring days are things you have to endure rather than skip past in a montage, where the couples don’t always work it out, where the rain makes your hair frizz, where love is sometimes complicated and hard and dull and painful and grey and ever-changing and compromised and flimsy, rather than only perfect and soulmates and kisses in the rain and knowing they’re going to live happily ever after.
It is both.
Every love affair is always a mixture of both.
You just don’t see both in romance movies.

It wasn’t like Harry had lied. Just, er, withheld the whole truth

That was the moment a piece of my heart broke off and got thrown into his, where it would lodge for ever. Because you always leave a little piece of your heart in whoever you fall in love with.