So, Perfection is Found in the Details (A Love Letter).

I really thoroughly enjoy the movie Speed. You know, that 1994 Keanu Reeves-Sandra Bullock movie that's essentially just Die Hard on a bus? Once the bus goes over 50 miles per hour, it'll blow up if it drops below 50 mph? Yeah, that Speed. That movie rocks. 

And while this isn't a blog about Speed per se, I can't help but start with it. Because, as much as I love it and could rewatch it any day of the week, it is far from a perfect movie. It has small problems that you can't help but notice. And perfection is made, and lost, in the little details.

For example:

At no point while Keanu Reeves is spending the better part of 15 minutes chasing the bomb-rigged bus, trying to indicate to the driver not to go over 50 miles per hour, does he think: "Hey, I have a gun on my hip, why don't I just shoot out the bus's tires?" It would literally solve the entire problem. So frustrating.

Here's another example: 

When Sandra Bullock is driving the bus, cause apparently she knows how, and there's a gap in the highway coming up, Keanu has a "brilliant" idea. Speed up and jump it:

There is NO WAY the bus makes that jump. NONE. IT IS NOT POSSIBLE. DID YOU SEE THE LIFT?? THE BUS LIFTS!! Ridiculous. But also, and this really can't go understated, that's probably the best scene of the movie.

Finally, there's this (skip to about the 1:45 mark):

Moments after Dennis Hopper says, "I'm smarter than you!" Keanu decapitates him by lifting him into a subway light. Then Keanu grunts, "Yeah, well I'm taller!"

I'm sorry, but what the fuck does that mean?? "I'm taller"????? You're laying down. Keanu's height plays exactly NO role in this scene. Maybe if he'd said, "Yeah, well I'm stronger," cause he lifts him into it, then maybe it would make sense. But "I'm taller"? I'm beginning to think that Keanu Reeves' character in Speed isn't actually that smart.

Anyway, I digress. I mention Speed because while I was rewatching it a few days ago, my partner, Blair - or the infamous They - got back home from running errands and joined me on the couch. I explained the premise of the movie, without making it seem so ridiculous. (I glossed over many of the film's imperfections.)

"Basically, there's a bomb on this bus that Sandra Bullock is driving and Keanu is trying to figure out how to save them, because if the bus drops below 50 miles per hour, it'll blow up," I say.

"Uh huh," Blair responds, glancing up from their phone.

And so it goes, I continue watching Speed, while Blair plays on their phone. But then a few minutes later, as we and our diverse cast of bus riders approach the gap in the highway, I notice Blair holding their stare on the movie, rather than their phone. Their fists clinch their phone tighter and tighter as the bus accelerates toward the gap. Just as Keanu grabs Sandra to shield her, Blair brings their knees to their chest. In a matter of moments, Blair is fully invested in everything happening on screen.

Now, as you can tell, I'm a huge movie fan. I love watching movies, I love losing myself to them, I love picking movies apart, I love everything about them. Blair is not the same. Blair doesn't watch movies very often. Blair hasn't seen a movie in theaters in over three years. Blair doesn't like when things get too scary, too intense, or even too loud. (This is where I should mention that Blair did art on the floor for most of The Fugitive.)

You'd think someone named after one of the most influential horror movies of all time, The Blair Witch Project, would enjoy said movie; but alas, Blair has yet to even see it. (This is also where I should mention that Blair is not named after that absolutely brilliant film...) The point I'm making is this: Blair is not a movie person, but I swear all it took was two solid minutes of hair-brained Keanu Reeves ideas and Blair was in. 100% in.

And that, that is what this blog is about. It's not about Speed, or its flaws. So, if that's what you came for, the buck stops here. Because this blog is about the way that Blair throws themselves into things. I'll give you disappointed Speed fans a second to close the blog.

All the Speed fans gone? Good. Okay. *Ahem* 

There are so many things I love about Blair, too many to count, but it's how they invest themselves emotionally that stands out to me every single day. Because it's what our relationship is founded on. We both threw ourselves into this relationship based on nothing more than chemistry, laughter, and above all else, trust. And sure, our relationship isn't perfect. It has its flaws. (Not like that bus catching insane air instead of plummeting straight down, but you know, other flaws.) Yet at the end of the day, I know that Blair will wake up tomorrow and be 100% in on doing this again.

Because that's the kind of person Blair is. The kind of person that gives themselves entirely, no matter what. The kind of person that makes the hard times feel not-so-hard, because they're worth it. The kind of person that can tell you, "I hate you" with so much love in their voice, you'd think you misheard. The kind of person that drags you to Home Depot seventeen-hundred times a week because we just need more things for the house. (Like I said, we have our moments.)

I love all of those little things about Blair. Like how they have to turn on the closet light before walking through it to the bathroom, even though it's not really that dark. Like how they always shout, "I love you" when they hear me giggle, even from across the apartment. Like how they'll roll over and give me a look every single night that says, "Will you crack my back, please," even though they don't actually say it anymore. It's the little details about Blair that really make them perfect.

Often, I don't even realize the impact of those little things, until they've cascaded into something much larger. Like, here's a thing I do every day now: dance. I dance. Dance. In front of another real life human being. That's not something I've been known to do. But it's something I do because I feel so comfortable with Blair that I don't even realize it's something I've never done before. And why do I feel so comfortable? Because Blair, my love, has soft eyes, a gentle smile, an infectious laugh. Because making Blair happy is a great joy. Because Blair gives me the greatest joy I've ever known. And that makes me want to dance. So, yeah. I dance now.

I'm sure if you're reading this and your name is anything other than Blair, you've probably grown uninterested. Hell, you probably aren't still reading. But if your name is Blair, then I want you to know this: I love you. I love you so very, very, very much. I love everything about you, down to the littlest things. This is so haphazardly thrown together because whenever I think about how much I love you, I am unable to find the right words. But, please know that I do. I love you. You are perfect.

Happy birthday, Blairberry. Here's to many, many more years of dancing, laughing, and picking apart movies. (Maybe even The Blair Witch Project... someday.)