Like the movies

A digital cleanup is inevitable as a twentysomething student during a summer break. Click. Delete. Empty. The cycle continues. Yet, one document caught my eye. It was a cross between a frustrated journal entry and a letter.

It’s funny how life at 24 feels like a mosaic of mistakes and rebirths. As I read it, it was clear that the version of myself who wrote this is six feet under. It goes: “When friends ask me, ‘Why do you like going to the movies?’ I’d usually say, ‘It’s a place of magic!’ but as a hopeless romantic, that’s a given. The truth is, somehow, it reminds me of you.

Throughout history, we’ve heard tortured poets write about crushing and blushing, authors with their spells and magic potions, and even great minds and inventions born out of devotion.

Yet, to compare someone to the medium of film, who even says that? Still, if you let me, I’ll articulate how being with you is like a cinema visit.

“Your presence is like sitting in a movie theater: calming, reassuring, and just comfortable silence. Our conversations are like trailers: exciting and less stressful than a 100-item test. It’s like when you’d talk about new horror films, and I’d immediately watch it the next day. I found myself giving you every drop of my attention. As nerdy as it sounds, loving you all these years felt like the movies, and isn’t love just like film genres?

“Love often feels like a romantic comedy, with a hint of tragedy and a splash of misery. I know, I know, you’re not fond of rom-coms, but hear me out. There’s something with the longing glances and chance encounters. My favorite is how even mundane acts feel like the grandest gestures when someone’s in too deep. There’s also the clever jokes, witty banter, and even the awkward conversations that morph into New Year’s Eve confessions. At best, we’re like ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ since, despite the chaos of it all, there’ll be dancing. At worst, we’re like ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ with my inability to hate you.

“Love can feel like a sci-fi blockbuster, embracing uncertainty in a foreign land. Taking the risk to pour your heart out, even if you know fate isn’t set in stone, is a massive leap of faith. Just imagine the cosmic drama in ‘Star Wars’ or the tangled prophecies in ‘Dune.’ Isn’t love one of the great mysteries of the cosmos? Sometimes, when you’re close, I wonder about the gravity that draws me toward you.

“Love can creep up like a horror film, swarming with scenes of fear. It’s terrifying! The type of jump scare that could activate your fight or flight mode. The reality of falling for someone mirrored a horror sequence—like the nail-biting tension in ‘Scream,’ where you’d pick up the phone despite the danger of the caller’s games. Love sets up butterflies in your stomach, sweaty palms, and shaking hands. It’s a haunting experience.

“Love could be a coming-of-age story, a documented journey of the pages of one’s youth. It’s unapologetically embracing your truth. There’s a mix of oxytocin and nostalgia, like how memories at 19 rush back in with the touch of a cherished memento. It’s the poetic timing of wind in your hair as you speed through a tunnel—yes, like that ‘And at this moment, I swear, we are infinite’ scene from ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower.’

“Yet, after years of moviegoing, I realized love could be like coming out of the theater. The clashing imagery of the sun in my face asking me to face reality and the cold-hard facts demanding me to see through the gaps and the cracks. It was truth slapping me to wake up. For a hopeless romantic, it felt anticlimactic. Our story’s still writing itself, but since Day 1, anyone could see its end from a mile away. I will never be at the top of your mind, maybe not even in the top five.

“So, maybe love feels like buying a movie ticket, as you don’t expect a refund. You pay the price, enjoy the show, and know when it’s time to go. And I think it’s time to let you go.

“When friends ask me, ‘Why do you like going to the movies?’ I’d say it reminds me of loving you. We’re a romantic comedy where the leads were never meant to be together. We’re a science fiction blockbuster where in an alternate universe, you liked me too. We’re a horror flick where you haunt me for years to come. We’re a coming-of-age story where I learned we’re better off as friends.

“We all want that cinematic romance, but real life is far from that. I realized, either way, I won’t find that with you. Just as the final credits roll, I knew it was time to let you go. Despite everything, I hope you find solace because you were worth the cheers and the tears.

“Like the movies.” I recalled why I wrote it, but perhaps the muse was not the most important takeaway. Instead, it was the lessons acquired and the hearts mended. I decided some letters were best left unsent and closed the file.

Richard Muñiz, 24, is a medical student at the University of Santo Tomas.