Love Lessons in Cinema Part 1: Kissing in the Rain


“And that’s when you realize he’s the boy you’re crazy for. The one who makes you laugh on the worst days. He’s not perfect, but neither are you. Sometimes he’s dorky, but he’s your dork. he kisses you in the rain and dances with no music, even though he knows it’s cliché. He made you realize it is possible to have permanent butterflies. Every love song makes sense because of him, because he loves you, and you love him.” – love quotes website

As any reader of the site knows, about six months back I left the love of my life – and I’m not referring to the Samsung mobile I left on the Broadmeadows line (though I want it back too!).

Relationships are hard. It’s even harder knowing when you’re actually in a good one – and, for that matter, know when you’ve found the ‘one’.

In my case, it took about 8 weeks before I realized the grass wasn’t greener on the other side and that the trusting, stable, perfect prince I’ve always desired, and wanted to populate with, was the same man I broke up with around boxing day. And now, my miserable cocker spaniel and I are suffering as he, my long-suffering ex,  pursues a life without both of us.

Everyone since the “Ex”, hasn’t compared. And the life I’ve ended up in since my guy exited the picture (without option), quite simply, sucks. I can’t remember the last time I truly felt content, happy, secure or stable  – – oh yes I can, it was with him.

As my mother likes to remind me, “Well, it’s your silly mistake letting him go.”

And, of course, my whole family liked him and felt he was going to be a good thing for my future to latch onto. And yet, not even that was enough of a hint for me at the time that he was a catch.

One realization that this man of… someone else’s, but previously mine, was potentially ‘the one’, let alone the catch of a lifetime came by way of a conversation I had last weekend with a co-worker at the inner-city hospital I have been working at as part of my university degree.

“Did he unashamedly kiss you in the rain? Like, not caring who sees, but proudly taking you in his arms and pashing you as the rain pelted down?”, Marika, my work friend asked. “They say once you do that, you’re tied. That’s the one. You shouldn’t let the guy in the rain go. You’ve seen enough movies to know rain pashing results in happiness….”

It hit me. She’s right – movies do know everything!

And she might also be correct, I know I never felt alive more than the rainy night near the Alfred  when, as we dashed towards the entrance – having parked quite a bit away – he stopped me in the open, grabbed my waist, and kissed me. I’m sure people saw it. I’m sure people thought we were silly letting the rain drench us as it happened.  But I also know I lit up like a Christmas tree afterwards.

And, of course, I’d forgotten all about that special moment when I told him the long distance and incapability was causing me to let him go.

Stupid, stupid girl.

If, as both Marika and the movies tell us, my ‘one’ is the guy I kissed in the rain…  I just missed by one shot of happiness.  Am we still tied though? Is there a chance this will swing around again? Might he one day walk up classroom, if only to drop back the purple dog collar he bought Sarah (my dog)  but mistakenly left in its paper bag in his car just before we broke up?

I think I need to watch some movies featuring ‘kisses in the rain’ to see what I should do next. In fact, I’m almost inclined to simply send him a SMS right now and simply say “thanks for that smooch in the rain that day.” Or, do I go one step further, and wait till it does rain, head around to his house and pull him out and just smack one on him!?

Will it work? Guess I’ll let you know as my column and mission to reclaim my ‘one’ progresses…

(Wherever are, know I love you, always will and even if we never cross paths again, I will remember that kiss in the rain….. and now, I’m gonna cry!)


The answers lie within these… maybe?


Garden State

Breakfast at Tiffanys

Say Anything

The Notebook

Dear John

Chasing Amy

In the Land of Women

Sliding Doors