I am sitting in a dark movie theater, with a Hawaiian pizza on my lap and The Banker in his seat to my right. This is my first experience at the movies in Singapore and, I must say, it is an underwhelming one.
No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the cushioned red velvet seats, or the air conditioning, or the size of the projection screen. The food tastes pretty phenomenal for movie theater food and the space between the row of seats in front of us in aplenty for me to stretch my sore legs and feet.
But I'm puzzled and confused and a little mad. The Banker is not even trying to hold my hand. Why the fuck is he not trying to hold my hand? Never mind the Hawaiian pizza on my lap, I'm done devouring that. Here is my empty right hand, resting casually on the arm rest separating me and him. Why isn't he reaching for it?
I try to hide my annoyance and concentrate on what's going on on the screen. This is the part of the movie where Justin Timberlake is talking to his father at the airport and is asking the father about a woman's name that the dad keeps saying.
The dad says this about the mystery woman, in his moment of clarity, "She was my one true love and probably the reason your mother eventually left me."
JT looks stunned. He always thought it was his mother's fault for leaving but now he is realizing that the fact that his father never acted upon his feelings for his true love hindered his relationship with his own mother. JT is also realizing that he, without a shadow of a doubt, is in love with HIS true love, miss Mila Kunis, and that he must do whatever it takes to win her back and prove to her that she is not just a friend with benefits.
I am too bitter to enjoy this part and I can't help but think about my situation with The Banker in terms of the situation between JT and Mila, except that at the end we don't end up falling in love and making out in front of a dancing crowd of flash mobbers in the Grand Central Station.
What if in real life my JT already knows that I will be nothing more than a friend with benefits. Maybe he does not see our affection as something that should be acted upon outside of his bedroom. Maybe he views hand-holding as something reserved for the girl that he will eventually fall in love with. A girl who is not me.
Maybe my JT knows that I am just his Mila Kunis - a fun chick to spend time with but not girlfriend material. And despite the fact that I might be cute, charming, witty, intelligent, sharp as nails, I am simply not the girl for him.
I look at my JT as the credits of the movie start to roll by and people begin hustling to the exit. He's occupied in his moment, trying to figure out if Emma Stone made a cameo in the movie (she did, by the way, but only for a couple of seconds, due to Singaporean movie editing skills). I am occupied in my moment, trying to figure out just what the fuck it is that we're doing.
In the friends with benefits scenario, I would be that friend that is starting to feel like she is in too deep. And as the 'friends with benefits' rules go, I should be the one trying to supress my feelings and get the eff out before my heart gets damaged.