dear diary, // minsung

nine,

1/1/21

Dear diary,

Happy new year! It's a new year, new me! Well, not really, but I guess I'm trying to look at this positively. Maybe I'll find a bunch of money, a sparks of fire-like romance, or maybe just simple happiness. Hopefully all three!

Or maybe I really am just hoping for the kindled love. But that's an entry for another time. I'm here for a different reason today. And that is about the movie Titanic.

I'm a sucker for love, as you can tell. God, would I do anything to feel the butterflies fluttering in my stomach when someone holds me by my waist. Or if I could ever feel the lingering feeling of someone's lips previously on mine. But so many people blindly use the power of love as their logic.

I will say it right here and right now: Jack and Rose would not have made it out alive together even if he COULD somehow fit on the door.

I can literally feel the mental daggers piercing through my skull from every single person out there who will always yell "jAcK cOuLd'Ve FiT oN tHe dOoR!!!1!1!1!!" And yes I purposefully wrote that in here. It's that dramatic.

If you look at the picture of the door with Rose on top of it, you cannot honestly tell me you think those two can both fit on it! Maybe only a half of a body can fit on there next to Rose, or a small child, but definitely not Jack. People just love to hate on women and call them selfish when they don't automatically give their life for a man. I hope you can hear me scoffing as I write this.

Even if there was the possibility both Jack and Rose could fit on the door, they would both end up dead.

Have you ever taken physics, diary? No you haven't. Let me explain it to you in a basic, BASIC way.

The more mass you put on an object makes that one object sink more due to the weight and pressure, right? That's the exact case here. The door might be able to still float enough with just Rose's mass, but it definitely would not be able to hold up double that mass because the door would sink further into the freezing waters.

There you go: a simple, but enraging, explanation on why this wasn't possible.

If someone came up to me and told me Rose was a selfish whore for not letting Jack on the door, I would deck them in the face.

Well maybe not, I'm too chicken for that. But it would happen in my imagination.

Minho cocked his head to the side. He's never heard of this argument before. Of course, he used to hop on the hate of Rose's character because who didn't? In reality, Minho knew nothing about the movie.

An idea struck in the boy's mind and he smirked to himself. He looked at the clock in his room which read 5:17 PM.

"I definitely have enough time." Minho muttered to himself.

Minho pushed back the chair he was sitting in and stood up, only to go flop on the couch in the living room. He turned on the TV and flicked through many streaming services until he finally found the movie Titanic. It couldn't be that bad of a movie.

Minho didn't see himself as a crybaby, but the tissue box next to him and the discarded tissues littering the couch said otherwise. As the boat broke in half, Minho sniffled and blew his nose into the tissue. Tear tracks had stained his face for a good hour already. Minho was snapped out of his trance when his mother opened the front door to the house.