Preface: I may lose some fans after this blog, but I feel for the sake of all relationships out there, this must be written. Also, if you have never read the book or seen the movie, The Notebook, this is a spoiler. Read at your own risk.
Lying in bed at 10pm last night, I made the gargantuan mistake of choosing to watch the last half of The Notebook instead of going to sleep. I hadn’t seen this movie in years but I remember the storyline and how much I loved it. This time, it annoyed me. Why, you ask?
Because it’s stupid.
I have to be Team Dude regarding The Notebook. This movie sets up every man to fail to any woman who has ever seen it. Ladies, you know you’ve watched it saying to yourself “I want a love like that. I want a man to adore me and never leave my side.”
Ladies, let’s be clear; no guy is going to write you a letter every day for a year. A guy’s interest level and curiosity toward a woman may last for a week, a month tops. But if he hasn’t heard back from her through half of a sports season, she’s history and he’s moved on. I’m not bashing guys here. To be honest, there are very few women who would write a letter to a guy every day for a year. Yes, they’re out there. They are called “Psychos” and chances are they have a restraining order or 2 against them.
The diary (aka: The Notebook): What man is going to journal his every day with a woman? I can only imagine my fiance’s daily entries. Maybe back in a simpler time, this would work. In the 21st Century, he’d only be chronicling daily chaos, much of which we would spend our older years trying to forget. There would be no “Kristen’s hair blew gently in the wind as she skipped through the garden of daisies”. More like “Kristen ran over the mailbox as she backed out of the driveway, late for work. Again.”
Fast forward to when Noah’s kids begged him to come home because Allie didn’t even know who he is. My honey would’ve left me high and dry a long time ago. Sure, he’d visit on occasion. He’s not heartless. However, I would never want him to give up his life being with kids and grandkids waiting on a 5 minute moment where I’d regain my memory and love him again. Sweet in concept, but not reality. Honey if you’re reading this, swing by once a week for a card game. Even if I’m senile, I’ll still kick your butt in Hearts and Rummy.
And the end…. COME ON, Nicholas Sparks!!
11pm and I was puddle of tears, angry at myself for wasting an hour of valuable sleep, and so very thankful Honey was traveling for work and not there to witness my breakdown turned rage of anger.
The good news is he never has to worry about me holding out for him to write me daily letters. That’s what texting is for. Granted, instead of “You’re the love of my life”, it’s more along the lines of “Can you pick up a gallon of milk on your way home?” But that’s all the romance I need.
Nicholas Sparks, let ME write your next book.
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