He’s Just Not That Into "You"

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        You know those weekends where your to-do list is basically screaming, and you’re just… lying there? Yeah. That was me. A whole mountain of work sitting on my desk, judging me silently (loudly), and I still chose to rot in my hostel room like a decorative plant (atleast the plant has some purpose). And in that glorious state of academic decay, I decided, why not make it worse by doing something better? So, I put on a movie. Not just any movie, the OG movie made for all the delusional single girlies out there,


Bro! Girl! Bestie!

WHO allowed this film to read me like that? (ded inside)

        Every dialogue felt like someone had slapped me with a truth I had specifically not ordered. Like I’m there, wrapped in my blanket, and the movie is like, “Hey, babe, let’s unpack all the delusions you’ve carefully curated over the last decade.” Rude, but okay.

It’s wild how every woman in the movie has her own little fantasy narrative running on loop, right?

“He didn’t call because he’s intimidated by me.”
“He’s distant because he’s going through something spiritual.”
“He didn’t call because he’s shy.” 
“He disappeared because he’s overwhelmed.” 
“He forgot my existence because men are complicated.”

            No, girl. He’s just not into you. And suddenly the universe makes sense. Honestly, we’re all a little delusional when it comes to this stuff, and the funniest part is we know we’re being delusional while doing it. Like, the signs will be fluorescent, neon, blinding, and we’ll still squint at them like, “Maybe he meant to ignore me lovingly?” (bitch please) We’ll take a man giving us a half-hearted “k / hmm mmmm” after 7 hours as a sign of emotional depth. We build entire cinematic universes out of crumbs. We do PhD-level analysis on why he viewed our story but didn’t reply. We romanticize red flags like they’re fairy lights. And honestly, it’s not because we’re foolish (only sometimes) it’s because hope is addictive, and delusion is the cheapest coping mechanism on the market. It's easier to create a fantasy than accept the reality that someone just doesn’t care as much as we do. So yeah… we spiral, we rationalize, we excuse, we write whole fanfics in our heads because facing the truth feels like heartbreak, and pretending feels like comfort.

            Now enters Alex, the only character in the movie who isn't running on caffeine. He strolls in like the human notification sound of reality. Every time he speaks, you can feel the delusion peeling away from the screen. He’s basically the friend who snatches your phone when you try to send a paragraph-text to a man who hasn’t replied since Republic Day. Honestly, it was refreshing and insulting at the same time.

            But that’s the thing about the movie: every character shows a different flavour of love. The chaotic kind. The painful kind. The bare-minimum kind. The “I’ll change” kind (spoiler: they won’t). And the occasionally healthy kind we don’t recognize because we’re busy chasing the ones who treat us like a side quest or the ones who forget us after spending an intense day with us.  And at the end of it all, the message is hilariously simple:

            If he’s into you, you’ll know. Like you’ll feel it. In the bare, uncomplicated, non-‘he-must-be-busy’ way. And if he’s not? Yeah… you’ll know that too. And sometimes you’ll know it too early, sometimes too late, but the truth?  It’s always been sitting there. And yet, tucked inside all the chaos, the film delivers this gorgeous, uncomfortable truth: love isn’t confusing when it’s real.


        So, there I was, on a Sunday evening, emotionally attacked by fictional people, realizing maybe, just maybe, we should all stop writing romance novels in our heads with men who don’t even send full sentences or text when it's convenient for them or won't give a shit about you or claims to be busy just for you or wouldn't even come to see you after love bombing you...... (Longest sighhh everrhh!) Haa, anyway, that’s my TED Talk.

    Now I should probably go… you know… do the 57 things waiting on my table....


                            But, will I? Absolutely not. (ok going to cry now, brb) 

                                  


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