The Day I Realized I'm in Love With Keanu Reeves

I’ll never forget the day it came to me. I had been texting my best friend (probably about something completely irrelevant) it was around the holidays—I was 30. I remember all of this because for some reason there was a Christmas tree in the background; which on its own isn’t very assuring, because at this point in my life anything that has happened is in the past and therefore filed in my “memory blob.” Which in and of itself is worrisome, and not very accurate as age has changed me into a shell of a woman. Regardless, this day, for the most part, sticks out in my head.

Anyway, we were texting our usual updates and suddenly without context I sent “I finally know who my celebrity crush is”

“oh?”

“yeah, its Keanu Reeves.”

For whatever reason I sat with that series of messages assuming her reply would be one questioning my announcement.

“Seems like a solid choice” she replied.

“Well, for some reason I have a long standing history with that man. I just didn’t realize it,” I went on (without any prompting), “my dad met him once. He sold him a VCR back in the day. And I’ve always loved (well not really) his movies. Also, there’s something about him that makes me feel like I know him on a deeper level like our paths will cross again... Evan approves.”

For reference Evan is my husband, and his celebrity crush has and always will be Kate Beckinsale. God knows why, but I wouldn’t dare question it. She is a gorgeous woman and hilarious at that. If we lived in a world where the concept of celebrity crushes mattered I wouldn’t even think twice about his leaving me for a stunning bad-ass like her. But, that is not the point. I had had a breakthrough. One that unbeknownst to anyone else in my life, I’d likely been avoiding for over a decade and a half. This was more than just a crush, it was deeper. Keanu Reeves was my soulmate (or one of them). I was sure of it. There would be four times that would prove it to me.

To understand why this crush thing was such a revelation for me, we have to take a trip back in time…

It was... a year. I don’t remember which. But it was long enough ago that I was living in what we could consider my original hometown. My family lived in Savannah, Georgia. A place riddled with beautiful historic buildings and a propensity to avoid its own sordid twisted history. We’d lived there for the majority of my formative years. My mother was an ICU nurse and my father, well he was a manager for a Rent-to-own store, and I am/was the oldest of three very annoying kids—at the time. Our lives were seemingly normal. We went to school, the parents worked (it was all very boring). But that all changed one fateful day.

My dad who we all very lovingly describe as a pretty non-emotive guy, came home for work (as he did), exchanged pleasantries with our mother, and listened to our thrupple arguing (as we did). Through all the chaos I remember my mother saying something like “your dad met a celebrity today” and the world stopped. “WHO?!” “Keanu Reeves.” There must have been uproarious laughter filling our house at the time, but I didn’t hear it. The seas had parted, time was no longer a quantifiable measurement of existence—I was dead. I couldn’t have been more than 13 at the time, or maybe I was, because what I felt was some strange cosmic pull toward that name, but what came out of my mouth were questions about how he ended up in the same place as my father, why he spoke to him, what was he like, what they spoke about, and if it were legal to leave my family and marry him. “Would he even notice me?” I thought. All completely irrelevant, but I was in a daze.

The answers soon followed. He was in town shooting a movie and the hotel he was staying in didn’t have a VCR. He wanted to watch some tapes but couldn’t. My fathers’ store was a one minute walk from the hotel (motel really). I guess he’d walked in and wanted to buy a VCR (for the young—that’s a machine that would play movies and TV shows for us. It was huge and annoying, but everyone needed one—additionally I’d advise the youngsters to Google search Blockbuster at this point).

Ok, so here he was trying to buy this thing. My dads employee was the first to greet him and he fanboy’ed, which wasn’t a thing at the time so my father had to intervene. So, long story short, he takes care of the guy and that was it.

I must’ve blacked out at the time because what seemed like a lifetime long moment was summarized into a three minute story, and though I was forever changed, not a single soul besides my dad remember this happening.

Flash forward to adulthood. I’m in my 20s and doing my usual thing (a fun cocktail of adolescent hi jinx and having a job). I was dating someone at the time, and she was really into games that weren’t really games. The best example was something called the “'Roxanne' drinking game”—the rules are blurry, but I guess it’s all in the title. You basically listen to that Police song and drink every time you hear the name. I assume anyone who’s ever finished is dead since we never could. Ok, so we’d been drinking, and trying to be cool I decided we were going to play the “Point Break drinking game.” The rules were simple, we just drank every time there was “bad acting.” Here’s the thing, when you’re drunk all acting is bad, and I cannot stress this enough: POINT BREAK IS AN AMAZING MOVIE (with a mostly shitty plot—but they own it). Somewhere into the eighth swig of whatever I was drinking I said aloud “you know my dad met him,” which I followed up with the story as I’d remember it. That’s all I had, was this story of this random small moment that didn’t even happen to me. I’d go on to bring this up several times (and partners later).

Throughout the next several years I’d catch a film or two that Keanu (we’ll call him that, because he’s been established here) appeared in. Some I’d sit through, some I’d be so immersed in. I once watched the one about the lake house and hated every minute. I thought “Ugh why did he do this?” only to say to myself later “Oh I’m feeling things for these actors.. I get it.”

You see, why an actor takes a role is their own prerogative. Movies are so wide ranging, and with that so is our taste in them. So it makes total sense for an actor to choose or be offered a role that someone in the general public could hate. But it’s irrelevant in the grand scheme. Someone out there sees it and that someone is impacted. For better or worse these people subject themselves to criticism (without warrant) for their art. An action we often forget we are committing. “Shit, I understand actors.”

I think I had this mini breakthrough at some point during the film and moved on.

Years would pass and I would continue to watch, but I wasn’t really interested in the stories, just the intricacies of how Reeves moved and emoted. He was an artist. It was fascinating.

To be honest, I did all of this in private. I wasn’t going to risk exposing myself as a total film geek and possible “weirdo” for basically saying that I’d spend the better part of the decade really loving the work and personality of a dude I’d never met. I wanted to avoid that as hardcore as some people skirt over more important issues in the world. Like poverty or you know, war (fun party topic).

The third revelation occurred some time around my getting married and the birth of my son (all of which I did in a year so "yay" me). It was when Tumblr was still around in a serious capacity. People were on the site for the artsy photos, the memes, and of course, the artsy boobs. I was in it for all of that, there were a lot of aspirational photos of homes on Scottish islands I’d never own (I’d cultivated this idea that rainy weather and chunky sweaters were my jam—I also made jam in this fantasy). So here I am, scrolling through my feed when I stumble upon one of two posts that changed the game for me. The first was one that speculated that—and I type this with a completely straight face—“Keanu Reeves is a Vampire.” Yeah, Ok I laughed too. Then I started to scroll… I’m not one to speculate or be persuaded easily, but let’s just say that genetic testing may be the only thing left to prove it’s NOT true….

As is true with most internet sites, once you click on something, you will likely end up in a hole. Sure enough I had.

Somewhere among all the funny Neo memes, and the screen-shots of scenes from My Own Private Idaho (a beautiful film) I found a post essentially explaining the lore and heartening human history of Keanu Reeves. As I read through the moments of great loss and sadness this man has experienced, I started to feel an unraveling. The more I read, the more I questioned my reading. I felt like I’d violated a man's privacy. Like I was looking too deeply into the shelter of a stranger that hadn’t yet welcomed me in. I must’ve been experiencing an intense hormonal shift because I erupted with tears. I suppose it was a mixture of shame, sadness, and intense understanding.

I felt shame for reading those things. Sure, we assume celebrities are welcoming of the continuous invasion of privacy, because of their jobs. But who wants that? I mean really. How many times have we been told to mind our own business in regular everyday circumstances

(It’s a lot, Karens of the world).

I was ashamed for every time I’d made some terrible joke about Keanu’s acting in a particular project (flashing back to every time I watch the penultimate scene in PB involving Johnny Utahs' call to his girlfriend). I thought it was warranted. That made me feel bad.

I didn’t know this man, and I would almost certainly never would. So why did I even care? Why do any of us? We all suck.

That made me sad.

The thing that hit me hardest though, was how much I understood in this stranger. He’d experienced immeasurable grief in his life. I understood that. I had too. I had experienced loss, I had experienced suffering. I’d known the depths of despair and likely stayed in that space for far too long. I’d loved and lost. I’d felt pain. I was still struggling to register if any of it was worth it for me. I was still trying to figure out who I was after it all and here was this man whose experiences likely shaped him, living through it all. That was a stunning notion to me. He (from all I could tell via the internet mind you) seemed to have the purest, loving soul, he deserved better I thought. I saw my past selves in him…

I was sitting at home one afternoon when my husband told me he’d rented a movie. “I got John Wick” he said on the phone.

“Wait that’s the movie where the guy kills people because they kill his dog?”

“more or less..."

I wasn’t sold. Frankly, after many years on this planet and experiencing varying array of horrible and wonderful things I had one constant. I couldn’t watch animals die on screen (after pushing out our beautiful child I apparently developed that same aversion when it came to children or their reference, OR any time someone cries on screen or off).

Needless to say, we watched it. I was pretty late to the game. At this point the second movie was on its way to theaters. I’d missed a lot.

Right around that time we had our best friends, and the only couple who’ve both loved my husband—a point I bring up often—over for dinner as was custom. We had to have our bi-monthly (or really whenever we could) dinners. The four of us usually engage in random conversations, so no surprise when we got on to “your celebrity crush.” I couldn’t tell you what everyone gave as an answer with the exception of husband. But, I didn’t have one to give.

“Oh well,” I said. And that was that.

No it was not.

The day I sent the text was the day I figured it all out. I saw something on a film website. It was about Keanu Reeves. I was suddenly that kid again. The one who’s dad randomly met that majestical figure. Only I was more realized, and so was he. I was an adult woman. I’d mastered life as an experience. I understood the nuances of the human condition. The need to express oneself with art, the intake and digestion of that art by us. I didn’t think of the questions I used to have about meeting Keanu Reeves.

Instead, I thought about the man—I was catapulted into a different world. One where we’d meet by chance. You know how it goes, I’d drop something on the street, or see him at a store. One of us likely would be looking for something. We’d converse briefly and somehow end up exchanging information, because one of us has a great tip for how to help with that (I imagine it’s a garden tip, or recommendation on a mechanic. I don’t know, it’s a fantasy calm down). I guess I imagined he wasn’t a texting guy so he’d call. It would take some time. We would get to know each other, we’d be friends. He’d teach me about motorcycles or something, and I’d teach him about something I know a lot about (nothing). But it was an honor to know each other. Maybe we’d be more, or maybe not. Sure, I thought about going on a date. His saying my cellulite was beautiful, because that’s what I know he would say...

I’ll say now that yes, I know I’m married. I love my husband. He’s the kind of guy you want in a bind. My husband can fix anything, he can solve any problem. I married my true opposite. Where he is calm, I am a mess. Where I step up he takes a back seat. He’s lively and social—I’m nicer to my dog. I love him for those things. But I love KR too. It’s just a different kind of love.

So anyway, what I was realizing is less about having a “celebrity crush” or loving another man as much as my spouse. I was realizing the ability we have to see ourselves in others. I was realizing it is possible to admire someone’s character and being, and not even know them. I realized the capacity I had for different types of love... I could fully love a stranger.

The thing I didn’t have as a kid, I had now. I had experienced life. I learned about our capabilities as people. But I needed time to do that and I got it.

Not all of life is pleasant, but it’s what we’re given. People need that more now than ever, they need love. I guess that's why it's so easy to love a guy like Keanu Reeves.

I never said any of this in our texts. I never said any of this to my husband when I told him. Which is probably for the best.

Maybe all of this is less about Keanu. He’ll always be the beautiful dummy I know he is. I truly love him. It could be about understanding the world through understanding one man. Or it could not. Either way. Neither are bad realizations to have. I hope you experience one of those one day too.

Also, If anyone wants... Give Keanu my number.