WHY THE HELL NOT?

I think men should realize the sacred ritual of women watching a movie from the 80’s. The next time someone - you have complicated feelings for- comes over your house (and makes you change into a ‘more’ decent looking pambahay clothes without trying too hard), they should ask, “Hey, are you, by any chance, watching another Hughes/Crowe film? ‘Coz if you are, my girlfriend and I are just gonna drop by next time so we won’t ruin it for you.”

Is it really too much to ask for?

The reason why I love watching movies from this decade is because it celebrates the recklessness of being young, and for being in love. I sit through it every night and I find comfort in the grainy quality of the film that tells you, somewhere in time, stories like this are real. That after a long day at work, or a long day of trying to forget things, I can allow myself to be in love again, if only for one hour and thirty minutes. 

However, you, sir, have tainted this ritual for me. Now, every time I see John Cusack holding up the stereo, leaning on his car, I see you standing with your arms over my gate. With your girl in the car. 

Thanks a lot. Don’t ever do that to me again.