But we didn't fully grasp just how Hopeless with the capital 'h' I really am... until now.
I am so in love with Mitsui Hisashi that I think I could die.
It wouldn't be a problem... except that he's a manga/anime character.
That wouldn't be a problem either... except that I'm wholly convinced that he's my soulmate.
I think he's The One. He's perfect. He's tall, he plays basketball, he shoots gorgeous three-pointers, he had a shadowy past, he's affable and charismatic, he's cynical, and he's Asian. And he has a scar on his face, more specifically, his chin.
He's absolutely perfect. And before my birthday arrives next year, we're of the same age.
It would be a perfect union, if only he were real.
Honestly, I think I have it worse for him than my current real-life infatuation who is honestly too Christian for my liking. I have it worse for Hisashi than even Jielun, or any other real, living, breathing, three-dimensional person who could possibly cross my path before I regain my sanity.
What else can I possibly say, except that Hisashi is perfect and that I am stupid? And the most hilarious thing is that Takehiko-sensei's drawings weren't very consistent in the beginning and sometimes Hisashi would have spiky hair and other times, he would have centre-parting hair, and at times his arm seems too huge for his body, stuff like that, but in spite of all of that, I am still in love with him.
In fact, there are quite a number of loopholes in the whole Slam Dunk plot, one of them being how weird it is that Hisashi immediately rejoined the basketball team after that huge fight as if the two years never happened, as if a haircut would magically make everything go away.
But then again, despite all these little flaws and whatnot, I still love him. I do. It's really dumb and stupid and irrational but I love him. And I'm definitely not your typical retarded and, frankly, weird anime/manga Jap-wannabe fangirl.
When I went to the film fest earlier this year and caught this Japanese film with pretty red jellyfish floating wistfully through the drainage system of Tokyo, patiently and slowly as if they'd one day find the sea, despite all odds, I thought that the lead actor looked quite a bit like Hisashi, and that he could probably play him in a Slam Dunk movie.
Boy, was I dumb.
Nobody can ever come close to even attempting to emulate the kind of gorgeousness and sexiness and pure perfection that embody and epitomise Mitsui Hisashi. He's perfection... precisely because he does not exist.
I first fell for him when I was 16. Two years have passed, and now I'm 18, while he remains 18 forever.
Wouldn't it be nice? To have something perfect remaining frozen in time, all the way into e to the power of infinity, remaining a certain, untainted, untarnished way, just the way you like it. He'd never let me down, I'd never have the chance to get closer and shatter the initial mystery, I'd never have the chance to dump him, he'd never become someone else, he'd always remain the same.
I think it's better this way.
Or maybe that's just me.