Even when the two main characters 

of a cheesy romcom 

make their relationship public,

they’re still supposed to end up together 

and have a happy ending, 

no matter what.

No amount of attention from friends

drives them apart indefinitely;

the two main characters’ relationship

is usually stronger and worth more than that

since their feelings are usually mutual - 

after all, 

hushed giggles, not-so-subtle touches,

and late night video calls 

are usually indicators of mutual feelings, 

aren’t they?

Peter Kavinsky openly passed love notes 

to Lara Jean in the cafeteria,

playing their peers

like puppets, and

scripting lines and 

staging new behavior 

to make their make-believe

seem real. 

Yet they still

got their happy ending. 

But my Kavinsky,

the same Kavinsky who I had once associated with

hushed giggles, not-so-subtle touches,

and late night video calls,

became unrecognizable.

Innocent love notes turned into 

derisive text messages that read

“wtf? did you tell people we’re going on a date? 

why does everyone know 

we’re going out?”

and “you should look at yourself and 

lower your standards to match

because 

it’s never going to happen.”

I hadn’t realized that his interpretation 

of going out

was different from mine

even though it was the same word. 

He just wanted

to hang out

platonically,

with no strings attached.

He wove an illusion so convincing, 

like a puppeteer, skilled in his act. 

I was but his little marionette,

a pretty little doll, 

hanging on by a thread. 

My puppet master

showed me the way, 

contorting my body in any which way.

Folded up in all of my Kavinsky’s love notes

were fragments of the doll he wanted me to be.

Puppeteers only 

care for their dolls

when they are useful,

but broken dolls are anything but that. 

I forgave his careless cussing 

and sharp comments

because he was my master,

and I was a volatile doll 

scared of snapping 

at any moment. 

But he chose me

in spite of my volatility. 

And I wanted to

make myself worthwhile. 

Because my Kavinsky cares for me

more than any other puppet master would.

And without a puppeteer,

marionettes are nothing but

broken dolls 

with no purpose.

Eventually, 

playing our peers

like puppets, and

scripting lines and 

staging new behavior 

to make their make-believe

seem real

will get us our happy ending,