Movies are a heck of a thing. Some will make you laugh, others'll make you cry. Others still, they'll change you. They'll completely deconstruct something you thought you knew as an absolute truth, only to put the pieces back together in a different way that completely blows your mind and makes you wonder how you ever saw it any other way. By changing the way you think, these films have the power to change what you believe, in return changing your very life. I have experienced this type of life-altering cinematic power several times throughout my life in a variety of films, but perhaps none are a better example than my first, Moulin Rouge! (2001), as nothing I've seen committed to celluloid, before or since, has affected me quite so profoundly. I saw this riotous musical, either by chance or by fate, at a most impressionable 12 years old, and I've never been the same since. 

It was a night I was up far past my bedtime and decided to sneak into the living room with hopes of maybe catching something a little saucy on late-night television. After a bit of channel surfing, I landed on one of the HBO channels, where I caught a twilight screening of Baz Luhrmann's campy foray into the melodic bohemia. A love story of the most tragic sort, the film tells the heartbreaking tale of Christian the poet and Satine the courtesan, two star-crossed lovers who end up sacrificing everything in the name of love. "All you need is love!" the fanciful musical's tagline proclaims, and in all my underdeveloped pre-teen naïveté, I found this sentiment to be something truly profound. Without a second thought, I took this hyperbolic declaration at face value and ran. Latching onto its bohemian ideals, I used this...

The following is a work of memoir. It reflects my present recollections of past experiences, events, and conversations. Certain names, locations, and characteristics have been changed, and some events and dialogue have been compressed.

Believe

It's a 'dance' I'm forced to do with almost everyone I interact with, due to the fact I can't maintain eye contact to save my life. As I looked back at Piper, she was still looking at me, and my eyes met hers for a second time before I quickly averted my gaze once more. It's like when I start talking with someone in person, I feel the need to look them in the eye, both out of respect and because that's what normal people do. But, when the figurative poop hits the fan and my eyes actually meet...

The following is a work of memoir. It reflects my present recollections of past experiences, events, and conversations. Certain names, locations, and characteristics have been changed, and some events and dialogue have been compressed.

Expecting the task of crafting a suitable retort to Piper's gracious reply to be as arduous as it was daunting in the wake of my newfound sobriety, I was relieved to find the process came with ease after the crimson-haired angel's tremendous bode of confidence, and that it practically wrote itself. In no time at all my follow-up message to Piper was constructed with care and sent without haste. In it, I proposed that we see Jojo Rabbit (2019) at the local cinema that weekend, and afterwards take a moonlit stroll down the street to the local Taco Bell, where we might discuss the film, or shoot whatever other breeze we may fancy. She responded in kind to my proposal, and just like that, in merely three Facebook messages I managed to lay the groundwork for, as well as secure, my first date ever - something I had failed to accomplish in the two decades I spent wanting it so desperately. It all came together like the implausible pipe dream it was after this rapid whirlwind of events came ripping through my mundane and lonely life, and suddenly change was on my horizon for the first time in as long as I could remember. Hope was on the horizon.

First Date: Genesis

It's the night of Friday, November the 8th, 2019, and less than 24 hours before I'd finally get to hang out with a girl and dip my toes into the pool of companionship and belonging once and for all. Would I fail miserably? Would she fall madly in love with me? Would...

The following is a work of memoir. It reflects my present recollections of past experiences, events, and conversations. Certain names, locations, and characteristics have been changed, and some events and dialogue have been compressed.

Despite the morbidly morose state I found myself in over my four-legged loss not even an hour earlier, by the time we pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, I was smiling ear to ear and on cloud nine. Caught up completely in the euphoric anticipation of what the rest of the night might hold, an all-consuming elation overpowered my every thought and emotion.

I was taking a girl home with me for the first time, and it felt like I was finally on the cusp of living the romantic fairy tale I'd always dreamt of. I knew the doubt would inevitably creep back in at some point, however, and as she pulled into a parking space, I made a conscious effort to let go of my every doubt and denial of her sincerity and recognize the proof she'd already displayed in her pudding.

As she killed the engine, I made a swift exit and ran around to the driver's side, making sure I didn't miss an opportunity to be a true gentleman. She grabbed my hand and stepped out as I opened the door, playing along effortlessly with an elegant "Why, thank you, kind sir!" as she gracefully pulled herself up and out of the low-set vehicle. Once on her feet, she handed me my car keys in one hand with a wink and a smile and maintained a tight grasp of my hand with the other.

The following is a work of memoir. It reflects my present recollections of past experiences, events, and conversations. Certain names, locations, and characteristics have been changed, and some events and dialogue have been compressed.

On top of the world and flying higher than ever on the drive back to my place after dropping Piper off that morning, I put my  Eminem Party Songs  playlist on with glee and cranked the volume in celebration. In no time at all I had lost myself in the ill beats and funky hooks of infectious up-tempo bangers from every era of Slim's discography, like "Just Lose It," "Berzerk," "Cum on Everybody," "Drug Ballad," "WTP," "Encore/Curtains Down," "'Till I Collapse," and "Never Enough," as I cut loose and got down with my bad self... until I reached my city's limits, when something started to change. It was clear something real and magical was beginning to form between me and Piper, and right in the middle of one of my all-time favorite bops, "Remember the Name" by Ed Sheeran and featuring Eminem and 50 Cent, my jubilation turned into terror after realizing just how much we both had to lose at this point.

It was easy before I meant anything to Piper, when all I had to worry about was my own inconsequentially mundane, singular existence, but now that we shared something that was so extraordinarily special, the stakes had been raised astronomically. Piper had skin in the game now too, and as I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, my mind took me, once again, down the endless rabbit hole of hypotheticals and what-ifs, where I got hung up on the thought of how easily we could both lose everything just as quickly as we'd gotten it. Everything I said to...