When I was younger, I've dreamt of love as pure and enduring as Carl and Ellie's. But as I experienced it for the first time, my insatiable appetite for all its frivolities kept me searching for more. It was all about the spark and the magic. Then I was caught up with reality. I've become too self-aware that the spark is just a spark and the magic is just a spell. They all faded right through my eyes, sometimes as feebly as the fireflies. I grew tired of it. I stopped yearning for it. But in those unguarded moments, when you least expected to see it, much worse in an animated movie, that gripping display of pure unadulterated love made me sob profusely. The loneliness was magnified exponentially, it became unbearable. Then I would try to "remember when," but I could not access anything worthwhile. My memories failed me. Sometimes a song is all it takes to launch me into full-blown melancholia. It's cruel.