Falling in love with celebrities is stupid, right?
Feel free to come right on over and give your high and mighty opinion. Go ahead. Begin to spout off from your high horse all of the things you’ve seen the “cool” characters in films and books do. Make fun of the dumb air-headed girls who waste their time shopping, or playing with makeup, or cooing over posters of boy band members acting like they’ve saved her life personally.
I used to be right there with you, too. You’re wise, right? You’re above that, aren’t you? You’re too smart to waste your time on girly things, you’re too intelligent to ever think you’d love a celebrity like that. After all, celebrities are just vapid and shallow figures of everything that’s wrong with human media right? The vanity? The greed?
And then I fell in love with one.
Judge me now or hear me out, it doesn’t matter.
There’s a boy. A singer. A songwriter. A producer. A dancer. He’s two years older than me, but barely. Brown eyes, brown hair. Tall, pretty smile. He’s not from my country. But he’s a singer, and he gets more famous and successful by the day. He deserves it for what he does, for the hard work he does. More than that, he’s a beautiful person inside too. He’s concerned with charity, mental health, inclusiveness. He’s excessively kind.
I never in my entire life believed a beautiful person could be kind.
Then he became successful as well as beautiful, but he stayed humble. He stayed kind. I find it hard to believe he exists. Don’t you?
And maybe he doesn’t. Maybe it’s all a grand scheme by the media, a facade. Sure put a lot of work into it. It wouldn’t surprise me at all someday if the curtain fell down and things weren’t what they seemed to be. Such is media, such is life. Full of disappointment.
But he can sing, that I’ve heard unfiltered. And he sings with his whole heart. I want to buy it. Who wouldn’t? And he shares his insecurities, his passions, his goals. He is the most human celebrity. Actually, he’s the most human human I’ve ever met.
I have no reason to be biased to believing that he is real, and no reason to not believe. I have nothing to lose other than live with the haughty judgmental eyes of those who believe its foolish to believe in a musician. A celebrity.
But you’re not wise. In your closed-mindedness, you’re ignorant. Not to mention, terribly boring. True wisdom is to learn, to understand, even if you don’t agree or wouldn’t do the same. So learn something new today. Here’s what you might not understand.
I wish I could say this boy, “he saved me”, but he didn’t.
I could never believe that a human could save another human. But he inspires me every day. I’m a little jealous of him, actually. He’s done so much with his life at twenty-two. He’s everything I wish I could be. Sometimes my admiration for him slips into infatuation, sometimes it slips into seeing so much of myself in him (he’s rather shy, a little awkward in public, known as quiet, reserved, caring, rough around the edges in his humor) that I project myself onto him. That I compare me with him. That I cry because I’ll never be good enough for him, but more often because I’ll never be like him. Right?
I suppose that’s up to me. As of now, I have nothing.
He came from nothing too, by the way. There were no connections for him, no strings to be pulled, no easy way up where he came from. He worked his way up. Worked for everything he has, still working. 10 hours a day of practice, sometimes more. Strict diets. He’s beautifully athletic, and I wouldn’t even care for something like that except for the fact it’s him. Anything he does is beautiful.
Celebrity boy is beautiful. And if I’m the dumb, air-headed girl in the silly teen movie and you’re all the tomboyish, bookish protagonist; I suppose in the end we should all remember that the narrative is just a silly teen movie. Isn’t it?