Look at me like that.

"It's always been you, Rach."

It's universal. Even if you don't openly admit it, everyone loves the feeling- knowing that someone cares about them, that someone would break their arm or their neck to make sure you're happy, safe and well. It's an indescribable feeling, knowing that you matter to someone. Matter, in a positive sense, not just in a I-appreciate-that-someone-is-there-to-serve-me-my-coffee-or-drive-my-bus presence, but someone who feels connected to you in a personal way. We all want it. That feeling that we actually matter to someone. When you read that, you probably thought of someone immediately. That is this person. That is the someone who you wish/want/does care about you, probably more than words can say, and you love it. Maybe openly, maybe guiltily or maybe shyly, but it's probable that on some level, you do.

                                                I just can't get enough of Meredith and Derek.

I want someone to look at me like there's nothing around them, and I'm the centre focus of their entire vision. The way Ross looks at Rachel. The way Tony looks at Ziva (NCIS). The way, undeniably, Harry looks at Sally (way before they get together!) The way Derek looks at Meredith (Grey's Anatomy), with nothing but admiration, love and devotion in his eyes. The way Caleb looks at Hanna (Pretty Little Liars) when he wraps his arms around her waist, or the way Liam loves Annie (90210) and always has and always will. That look. The moment Kevin Doyle admits he loves during weddings- the way the groom looks at his bride as she walks down the aisle; just like the way he will later look at Jane. (27 Dresses)

                                            Gatsby and Daisy, probably the most tumultuous

 couple of all.

There are hundreds of pairings like this, all well-known in their own way. Austin Ames and Sam Montgomery (A Cinderella Story) Chandler and Monica, Gatsby and Daisy, on an ironic note: Leo and Kate (both in Titanic and Revolutionary Road) Carrie and Big, Bridget Jones and Mark Darcy, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, Abby Richter and Mike Chadway, Emma Morley and Dexter Mayhew. These are, probably my favourite on-screen or literary pairings, all sharing one main trait. The look. They've all done it, either on paper or on screen, they've stared into the eyes of their one true love, and metaphorically, the blurring began. Everything else disappears. The moment takes over, and for just a few seconds, nothing else matters, nothing else is of any consequence. It's just the two of them, in the heat of the moment, recognising that that glance, is worth more than can be put into words, that glance, is what everyone everywhere longs for, the glance that will change your perspective, or change your life. The glance, that, for all intents and purposes, is sometimes, everything you'll ever need.

Always on the edge of my seat, waiting for the day Tony and Ziva 

finally submit to their desires.

Better off? What would they know.

People hate to hear it, but sometimes the person you want the most is the person you're better off without.

It's true. It's one of those, well-known, yet scarcely mentioned facts-of-life. It gets the same reaction as telling someone that they've missed the last bus, or when someone spoils the end of a film. You don't want to hear it. You want to defy nature, hum loudly and close your ears to everything that person just breathed. But, unfortunately for us all, that's not possible. I have a tendency to put people on a pedestal. So much so, that they'll never be able to live up to my dreamed-up expectations, or it would be wondrous if they did. Disappointment breads contempt, or so they say. Everyone hates those people. Those happy people you see when you feel horrible, down-in-the-dumps, the one whose life is perfect, when all yours is, is chaos. It makes you want to scream, cry, throw something off the wall. The same said reaction when someone dares to breath a few words you never ever wish to hear.

"(s)he's no good for you." 

I hate that. It doesn't matter who says it, your best friend, a mere acquaintance  or a family member, it still has the same effect. That self same, gut-wrenching, all-encompassing feeling of despair. Just because you're well aware that your love life is going quickly down the pan, (whatever of it there was anyway).

"That is just like you Harry. You say things like that and you make it impossible for me to hate you, and I hate you, Harry. I really hate you."

The last thing anyone wants to hear, is that someone they have feelings for is;

a) no good for them

b) a total douchebag

c) not interested

d) all of the above

It's horrible. While the provider of this brilliant foresight may have your best interests at heart, for a small moment, you want to scream at them. You want to tell them that no matter how true their point is, you're not interested, or you're willing to put all of that to one side, because this person means more to you than something superficial. No one wants to feel insignificant, used, naive.For every piece of filthy rotten yet from-a-good-place insight, there's a little part of you wondering why this person dares to utter such hideous words. Sometimes you don't need an agony aunt, an adviser or a critic. Sometimes all you need is a friend. Someone to share the good times with, the shoulder to cry on and the one to laugh with.

After all, there really is nothing more hopeless, deflating or condescending than knowing that there's someone waiting to say (somewhat gleefully) "I told you so." 

Why so serious?

Remember those days, when you were about 14, and you and your BFFs would have gossipy sleepovers, paint each others' nails and talk into the small hours about that guy you sort of liked in your English class. Those were the days. When 'crushing' on someone didn't have to be a complicated, heart-wrenching, unhappy thing. It was light-hearted, fun and full of giggles and the exchange of stolen glances over the top of battered copies of The Tempest, brought out of their dusty home on the floor of the English cupboard. The feeling, seeing someone reciprocate a smile or even a small 'hello' would make your entire day. When did everything get so complicated?

At the somewhat grand (old) age of 19,  I wonder whether we long for the days that have already passed, the friendships we shouldn't have walked out on and the times that were altogether easier to cope with. I recently heard a song I hadn't heard for what must be five years, and it got me thinking of an old friend. We don't speak much anymore, not for any particular reason, we just grew apart as we got older. However, no matter how long had passed, or whatever disagreements we may have had along the way, none of that seemed to matter when I heard that song, everything was forgotten. It was as if I was back to an easier time.  When school days weren't full of stress and exams, when discussions about guys were naive and pain-free and when friendships were supposed to last forever. 

Everything changes when you reach a certain age. Being 14, so hung up on someone you know, getting carried along by the whole Will he/Wont he? argument you play over and over and over in your head. The funny times seem funnier, the sad times seem more trivial and the great times, seem, well, greater, because, back then, a lot of the serious stuff didn't matter. At 14, if you make a mistake, you can, and undoubtedly will, put it down to experience. Five years later, when you're messing up after god knows how many shots of gin and JD, everything seems threateningly serious. You're officially an adult at 19, you can drink, drive, gamble and vote. You can take out a mortgage or a loan or buy your own house. However, at 19, are we really ready to face the world and every ounce of responsibility that comes with it? Instead, we prepare to leave the nest, with arm-fulls of hope, a suppressed amount of fear, and every now and then, some necessary  dutch courage. 

From the days you spent pouring your heart out to your parents over some little spat with your BFF to the break-up of a 'relationship' at that age, looking back it all seems so innocent, so simple. Fall-outs over who wore the same outfit to someone's birthday party or the fact that two people share an interest in the same guy. No real fights, no bitter slurs and back-stabbing and spreading vicious rumours or brandishing her a "stupid slut." At 19, we hear it all of the time; Know Your Limits, Act Your Age, and Think Before You Speak. None of which were necessary rules to live by at the tiny age of one-four. Now crying over someone seems immature, being upset about having harsh words with friends seems futile, and saying stupid things seems, well, stupid. There are certain expectations everyone has of you after you reach a certain milestone.  Whether you fulfill them or not, is another matter entirely. 

Now, staying up all night, has entirely different connotations. Late-teens and Early-twenties are supposed to have reformed attitudes to things. Chasing someone you have feelings for, or in fact, being chased, suddenly becomes something a bit naive. It's like your unconscious is ready, on its haunches, to scream "GET ON WITH IT!" At fourteen, a love life was a big deal for most people, something you were ready to shout from the rooftops. But now, it's not like that. Little things aren't appreciated. That smile, the few seconds of eye contact, the first stages of getting to know someone, they seem to be swept under the metaphorical carpet of life, to gather as much dust as that battered old copy of The Tempest. Now, you find yourself saying "we just kissed" and watch listeners' eyes sort of glaze over, bored, as if they were expecting something juicier  It's just a stepping stone to something more, and I guess, in a way, it is, but also, it's kind of sad. How can something that used to be such a big deal, now mean so little to us a few years later? Cue our younger selves, bearing refreshing little grins and encouraging you to smile about it.

Your teenage years are supposed to be the best and the worst years of your life. I never really fully understood that until recently. All of the fun and the freedom, with none of the responsibility. As you get older, you're supposed to get wiser, but instead, you just invest more, you make more qualified choices, and when all else fails, you make worse mistakes than any mistake you every made as a teenager. Then again, i guess no one can make your mistakes for you, and you can never truly learn from someone else's. After all, what does it matter if, at nineteen, we still don't know when to stop drinking or realise when you're being played, we're still relatively young, so we'll use that excuse until it expires.

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY

(there will, undoubtedly be many more WHMS references as my blog proceeds!)

Harry: I'm not saying it didn't mean anything. I'm saying why does it have to mean everything?

Sally: Because it does, and you should know that better than anybody, because the minute it happens you walk right out the door!