If I was gorgeous and he were taller and a sad gravelly song about love was being crooned in the background, our public fight on Granville at Robson could have been right out of a movie.

As it is, he is of average height and I am merely plain and our only soundtrack was the noise of a busy city failing to come to a halt at our emotions.

Whether this story has a Hollywood ending, though, remains to be seen.

I hate this shit.