Generally, I hate romantic movies. I hate them because they’re too good. Too convincing in their fantastical, illustrative, beautiful lie that says, “This is how life should be”. Or “Relationships like this exist”. It’s the same lie I’ve been fed since I was drowning in my older sister’s purple bras while pretending to be Ariel, and believing Disney’s miscellaneous Prince Charmings were the end-goal and finish line for success –.. Read More