Romantic Comedy
It’s supposed to be laughter, clever banter, and grand gestures under city lights–
But our story’s a B-side cut from the final reel, all tripping over words and silent Uber rides home,
We’re not Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, we’re two people missing the punchline,
Awkward hands at dinner, jokes that don’t land, romantic moments drowned out by the hum of the fridge,
I watch you rehearse “I love you” like it’s a script you’ve already forgotten,
We forget our lines, miss our cues, but keep pretending,
You’re the quirky lead, hair never quite right, hiding behind sarcasm,
I’m the straight man, baffled by my own lack of charm,
Our best scene is probably when we’re both scrolling our phones,
Two extras in a movie that promised a happy ending, but never cast us for the final shot.
They say every couple stumbles, but ours is less a dance and more a slow-motion fall,
We tell ourselves we’re working toward a twist ending,
But the laughter is canned and the tears are genuine–
We’ve got all the props, all the catchphrases, but the spark is missing,
Our love story plays out in flat dialogue and background noise,
Date nights become reruns, apologies recycled from last week’s argument,
We’re actors in a sitcom that never got renewed,
Playing parts we never auditioned for, still hoping the credits don’t roll before we figure it out.
Maybe somewhere, in a parallel universe, we find the rhythm,
The right line at the right time, the kiss in the rain that doesn’t feel forced,
But here, it’s just two people faking the bloopers,
Pretending the story isn’t as tired as we are,
In this rom-com life, we laugh through gritted teeth,
Still hoping for a rewrite that makes it all worth the pain,
But offstage, when the lights cut out, we know–
Some stories never get the laugh track, and some loves are just awkward, unscripted, and unfinished.