Dear Will,
This might surprise you. I think I have fallen in love with you. You are probably shocked to hear this, but let me explain.
Don’t worry, it is not a creepy sort of love or infatuation, and I am not going to show up at your door in the middle of the night. I will stay in my lane and you in yours.
Yesterday was a challenging Wednesday afternoon. By 1PM I wanted a “do over day”, to run back into bed and forget about all of the overwhelming things happening around me: politics and division; the pressures of life; work deadlines; my parents visibly ageing daily; family tensions; financial concerns; short, middle and long terms plans; and, oh my gawd laundry. By 1:30PM the overwhelm was absolutely paralyzing. And so I just stopped and turned off for the day, ignoring the adulting that had to get done. I watched one of your films. I won’t tell you which one. You made me so happy for just about 120minutes and during that time, the world around me went quiet—the noise, the demons, the doubt, the endless list of things I had to do, and the anxiety that comes with actually having to do them, it all just faded. And that’s just why I love you.
I’ve fallen for your unconventional leading-man looks, your absurd deadpan expressions, your famously loose-limbed build, but mostly for the way you made my world feel lighter and more manageable, even if it was just for an afternoon. You’re consistent in that way. You show up. You don’t let me down. And on Wednesday afternoon at 1:30PM that was exactly what I needed.
But I wonder what that costs you.
Is it a heavy burden to always be the reliably funny one in this very one-sided relationship that you and I have? I give you nothing but you give all of us something. That something is light and airy and happy and hopeful and touching and like I said before, consistent. No one ever says, “There goes Will Ferrell bringing everyone down again.” If this was a real relationship, I would be the toxic one, the taker. How does it feel to be the one who makes everyone’s noise disappear with over-the-top facial expressions, strange voices, awkward clothes, and a whole lot of cringe? Do you carry your own noise, your own demons, your own doubt, your own endless to-do lists and the anxiety that comes with them, and still have to hold it together for people like me? Is it worth it? What’s it like, really?
I can’t imagine you live your life as wide-eyed and elated as the sunny characters you play. I can’t imagine it’s all sunshine and smiles. I have to believe that you have dark days too, days where you wonder what the point even is—where you too find solace in the 120 minutes of a film on a random Wednesday afternoon.
Do you ever cry? I feel like I almost need to know that you do.
Because I don’t know how to reconcile the version of you that brings so much joy with the reality that no one can feel that way all the time. Maybe that’s jealousy. Maybe it’s love. Maybe those are closer than I want to admit.
It pains me to think that you might have to hide behind your own humor, for me, for all of us really. But I like to think, that maybe, you know what it is like to want a “do over day” at 1PM, on a random Wednesday afternoon and that’s why you do what you do for me, for all of us.
No need to respond as I know you are busy bringing joy. Thank you.
from someone
#willferrell #dearfamous