Real Life is better than Fiction.

The moment after a complete strangers pulls your life story from thin air is never how you imagine it. There's no bright lights, no sudden epiphanies, no auspicious apparitions. Just awkward silence, and you, nodding in affirmation. Besides, what they tell you is never anything new. It's all shit you already know. Like how you spent 3 1/2 years studying a field you have no intention actually working in.

"There's a girl...a past roommate? Who doesn't like you very much? She's jealous of you..."

Or how a friend of yours secretly hates your guts (not that you really knew that beforehand, but little surprises you these days). This is just confirmation that girls are, largely, two-faced. I have found that my ovaries have given me no insight into the strange, strange world of female politics. A world that honestly, I'd prefer to keep at arms length. But I digress.

Perhaps the most annoying bit about the moment after is their look of "knowing", as if to say "It'll be ok".

"WHAT will be ok???" you want to scream. "How the hell do YOU know?!"
How dare they tell you things of little importance, don't they know there are greater questions you have? For one, am I really as crazy as I think I am? Am I being melodramatic? How do I stop feeling? How do I START to feel again? Do phases really last this long? When will it be over?

But you don't want to turn it into a question-answer $20-a-minute-plus-tarot-reading session. I get this same feeling around celebrities that I actually really like. No matter how badly I want an autograph, or just to say, "Hey, I really really love your performance in that one movie", I keep my mouth shut, and stay occupied with whatever it was I was doing.

So I just smiled and kept playing with the baby, all my questions quickly smothered beneath my feigned indifference.
Be still, my overactive heart.