Petals and Plot Twists (Only Magic in the Building)

by Jenny Proctor

If my life were a romantic comedy, I’m not sure I’d be the main character. I have more of a quirky sidekick vibe. Bubbly, supportive personality. Big hair. A treasure trove of funny anecdotes—mostly dating mishaps—to make the main character feel good about her own life and prospects. I do want to fall in love. More than anything. I just haven’t figured out the secret. I haven’t figured out how to capture that main character energy. Or maybe the problem is that I haven’t found my hero. If he’s even out there at all.

He has this quiet, peaceful confidence that comes entirely from within. I’ve always admired that about him—I still do.

“Maybe the guy you’re supposed to be with isn’t on a dating app. Maybe he’s someone you already know.” He lifts a hand and hooks it around the back of his neck. “Someone you work with, maybe. Or…I don’t know. Someone you met in school.”

Which is why, when all evidence indicates my emotions will not be returned, it makes no logical sense for me to be in love with my best friend.

I don’t mind talking to people. But I’m generally comfortable with my own company, so I don’t often think about putting myself out there.

The more I think about my future, the more I’m coming to accept the uncomfortable reality that if I am ever going to fall in love with someone else, Sophie’s going to have to break my heart first. And that won’t ever happen if I don’t try.

Though I cannot prove as much, my personal feeling is the flower appears when it’s needed. When lonely hearts need a helping hand or lovers need a nudge in the right direction.

“When you’ve dreamed of kissing someone for such a long time, when it finally happens, it takes a moment for the shock to wear off.”

“Love is never a guarantee, but I’m not sure it’s supposed to be. It’s an action. If we want to be the Hathaways, still in love when we’re old and gray, then we do the work. We make it happen.”

Love isn’t magic, it’s an action. And we’re doing the work of loving each other.” He kisses me one more time. “Loving you isn’t work, Sophie. It’s like breathing.”