It’s fall and feels like Forks.
For those who do not know, when I say Forks, I mean Forks, Washington.
Late October and early November is a sacred time for homebodies who cherish their vanilla candles, gloomy mornings, long days and inexplicably shorter nights.
It’s for the girls and their Uggs. For the boys and their red under eyes.
It’s the chill in the air. The rustle of leaves on a busy side street. It’s feeling like there’s somebody watching you when no one is at all.
I call this “vampire season” or, well, “Twilight.”
Any teenager can recall the endless memes of the main protagonist, Bella Swan, falling flat on her butt, conversing with an awkward stutter, and never, and I mean NEVER being able to hold eye contact.
It’s her season.
It’s an era.
It’s her proverbial “New Moon.”
‘Twilight’ still possesses an immense chokehold on this generation even 15 years after its release. There is something specifically about the first movie, a certain magic that the blue-green lens captured, that stole audiences’ hearts. Forget about the waging war between vampires and werewolves for a moment. Forget about Jacob Black and his long, scruffy head of hair. Dare I say, even forget about Paramore rocking out to “Decode” in a dim forest, too.
When you think of ‘Twilight’ and its glistening vampires and moody soundtrack, therein lies one thing that people always come back to with this series.
And no, it’s not for the aesthetic.
It’s the love story.
The Bella and Edward of it all.
Even I find myself down the endless rabbithole that defines this pair. This uncomplicated, toothless romance that is and will always be a commercial success when selling to teenage girls an unrealistic standard of romance. It’s a fulfillment of fantasy, one that has every little girl gripping their pillow tight at night, wishing, hoping and praying that a mysterious boy with dark eyes and a brooding shadow can stand over them and watch them sleep.
Some may say, “Where is the romance in that?” and to that I argue, “Right there. Right where he’s standing. In her bedroom!”
Edward Cullen, an ageless vampire, who is definitely too old for Bella, is this brooding masculine presence. He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing with glowing liquid-brown eyes, a towering build, and a terrifying smile that if it widens just a fraction more, you may be able to spot his fangs.
He is pretty, and he is perfect. He is everything a girl could want. Forget his tendencies to be disturbingly disruptive, disgustingly overprotective and innately jealous…
Despite all of this, in a saga that forged 5 commercially successful movies, one thing is certain in these films: Edward loves Bella despite all her raging flaws and indscretions.
There is no good reason they should be together. She’s a walking human klutz, and he is quite literally marble stone and yet, he loves her. Deeply. Desperately. Exoticly. And isn’t that what we all want? Love?
As we drift further and further away from the warmth of the sun and find ourselves falling deeper and deeper into cuffing season, I find ‘Twilight’ always rears its ugly head.
It’s a reminder that a vampire soulmate might not be out there, but something close to it is.