From the time I was a teenager I had been begging the universe to love me. Please love me. But more than that, care for me. Make me feel cared for. Send me a handsome boy I can love and care for, too. Send me someone who will bring me flowers and remember my birthday and all the other crap teenage girls wished for based on popular culture in the mid-1980s. I didn’t know screenwriters wrote those stories based on a predictable narrative arc and audiences demanded happy endings.
