True love.

It's been a weird few days. Everyone I know is in rehearsal for (The) Odyssey, so I've pretty much been a shut-in. I've watched two seasons of Frasier since Thursday of last week -- which isn't bad, or anything. It's just... emotional.

(If this isn't true love, I have no idea what is.)

Today I finished season 7, which ends with a two-episode extravaganza, "Something Borrowed, Someone Blue." Part two contains one of my absolute favorite TV moments: Niles and Daphne on the balcony of her hotel room after he's confessed his love for her. It's romantic. It's painful. It's awkward. I've seen this episode probably 25 times, and it never ceases to make me tear up. For whatever reason, the emotional context of this scene is always (strangely) relevant to my life.

Unfortunately, Phoebe and Mom came home from shopping just as this scene was about to commence and, while I feel totally at ease bawling in front of my mom, Phib is much less forgiving. I forced myself to look away from the screen, to pretend to by busy -- I bit my bottom lip trying to keep myself from crying. It worked, but it left me with all of these extra feelings that won't come out.

I know this is totally illogical because Frasier's a 90's sitcom (not to mention the fact that its primary demographic was probably, like, Very Well-Educated 40-Year-Olds and I'm 22 and supposed to be, like, partying or something retarded). I mean, who cries over a show that went off the air 6 years ago?

Apparently, the answer to that question is "Me." The really weird part is that I totally know why.

It's because on this show, Niles has loved Daphne since, like, the second he laid eyes on her. And he waits for her to come around for SEVEN EFFING YEARS. I want someone to love me like that. Not, you know, right now or anything; I'm young, definitely not ready for marriage, etc. But if the dudes that wrote Frasier could, somewhere down the line, maybe type me up a classy, lovably pompous romantic interest that could magically come to life and take me to the mother-effing ballet, I would not complain at all.

...And now I'm crying, haha.