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October 3, 2014
The happiest I’ve ever been in my life was when I was talking
with you. This can’t be it.
Being reminded of this message on one of the worst night’s of my life is the
definition of a silver lining. I’d been truly blocked on what to write for my next
screenplay, but now I’m eager to plot out a romance born of online messages and
flirty glances shared with my best friend’s older brother, Graham. I’m on fire to
write about millennial messaging angst and give these characters the happily ever
after that Graham and I never got.
Will it be good enough for a theatrical release? I hope so. But the writing is a
struggle almost as soon as I start, and it only gets harder when Graham texts to
say he’ll be in Los Angeles for three weeks.
He wants me to tour him around LA and though we’ve formed a loose friendship
over the years at his family Christmases and backyard BBQs, our resurrected
message threads bring everything up for me. It’s infuriating because he has no
idea.
Graham is as calm, cool, and cocky as I remember from those summer trips to
Old Orchard, and it has me wondering if any of it had been real. If it could be
again. Or if like many things, the question of us is better left in the past.
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