Confessions of a Romance Junkie: The Tragic Endings Debacle
Spoiler Alter: Mini Review of “ONE DAY” on Netflix
So, here’s the deal: I fancy myself a bit of a love aficionado. Give me a choice, and I’ll dive headfirst into the romance genre, be it books or the ever-tempting romance aisles on Netflix and Hulu. I’m all about that love life. There was a time I was all in on the soulmate theory, but these days? I’m convinced of love spanning multiple lifetimes, and I’ve apparently had my fair share. A glance, a gesture, and I’m like, “Ah, we’ve definitely done this love tango in a past life.” No need for evidence, though nobody’s lining up for proof.
Now, on my quest through the annals of love stories, if there’s one thing I can’t stand more than a horror flick, it’s a romance that ends with one of the lovers biting the dust. Seriously, why the heartbreak finale? Is it some cosmic rule that love stories gotta have an expiration date? Can’t we script a forever kind of deal? Reality aside, my heart’s not having it.
Cut to me, a waterfall of tears, slow jams cranking, and a Netflix mini-series marathon. As a single minority female, this narrative hits differently. Take Emma, the protagonist writer who nails down her epic love story young but takes a decade to make it stick. Timing, as they say, is everything, and just when they’re all set with wedding bells and baby talks at episode 11/12, she’s out. Gone.
And there I am, yelling at my TV on a perfectly good Saturday night, “Why, universe, why take her?” My day was a blueprint of bliss: killer workout, protein feast for breakfast, marathon bubble bath with an encore hot water fill-up, and a side of romance audiobook (chapter two and parked). Whipped up a smoothie, nibbled on snacks, and settled in with “One Day.”
Spoiler bomb: death swoops in second to last episode. And it gets me pondering — if this isn’t real life tragedy, then why do tales like Titanic, Romeo and Juliet, or The Fault in Our Stars all wrap with a funeral? What’s the grand lesson here? Any chance of a divine resurrection loophole?
Here’s the pitch: I’m penning the ultimate romance novel that defies the Grim Reaper. Picture this — a duo so in sync they breeze past a century, side by side, exiting stage left in serene old age. Post-mortem, they’re on a soulmate merry-go-round, finding and loving each other in every life, battling new challenges every century. They’re relentless, turning each obstacle into dust, till after (let’s dial it down) ten lifetimes, they ascend, hands clasped, into cosmic eternity.
So, universe, consider this my vow: I’m crafting a love saga that laughs in the face of separation and sings of undying unity, century after love-struck century. Here’s to love stories with beginnings that echo, sans the end credits.
