if my romantic life was to be made into a movie, i can tell you exactly what it would look like.
the camera would open up on a room: white walls, white floor, a door on the north side, and a door on the south side. inside the room would be two chairs facing one another from the west and east walls. i would sit in one; he would sit in the other. 
and we would just sit there.
thousands of people would walk through the room — some stopping for a period of time before leaving, others speeding right on through — but we wouldn’t really take heed of them. we would just keep sitting, and staring, and quickly look away so the other person would not see. 
time would pass; we would grow old in those chairs, die in those chairs, rot in those chairs. 
oh, how blissful life must be when one is not crippled by emotion.