kristen stewart
My friend’s birthday party, 7th grade, the Regal Webster Theater, Charlie’s Angels, Kristen Stewart. I should’ve listened to the reviews about this movie; I most definitely shouldn't have gone to watch it. It changed the trajectory of my life. In 7th grade, I was, admittedly, not very excited to watch this movie. My mother had told me the reviews weren’t great, and I tended to believe her about most things. Unfortunately, she was wrong about this one. I probably should’ve heeded the warnings and decided that this movie was simply bad enough for me to skip a birthday party over, but I don’t think the critics were going to warn me about Kristen Stewart… or how terrible it was for my young thirteen-year-old brain.
Anyway, I was prepared to be bored for the duration of the movie and pretend to like it for the sake of the birthday girl. I threw myself down in the reserved seating and made sure that my phone had enough battery just in case the movie was that bad.
I was wrong. So terribly wrong. The movie started, and the face of Kristen Stewart was on the big screen. My slouched position disappeared as I sat upright and gasped in horror at what I had just seen.
No one had told me Kristen Stewart was hot.
For the next 1 hour and 38 minutes, my eyes didn’t blink or leave the movie. I couldn’t miss a millisecond of this gorgeous woman. Previously, she was only Bella Swan, the awkward, not-hot-at-all female lead from Twilight. That Kristen Stewart had never sucked me into a tornado of confusion and questioning. This new, blonde, bold, short-haired spy, who did flips and rode motorcycles and always had a smirk on her face, sent me face-first into that tornado and made me lose all sense of direction.
After the movie was over and I had to blink my dry eyes—not too fast though, I didn’t want to blink away the scenes of Kristen Stewart still playing behind my eyelids—we walked back to my friend’s car, and I crawled straight to the backseat. It was in this backseat that I began to cry.
Was I sad? No.
Was I overwhelmed? Kinda, maybe, definitely, but not the reason I was crying.
Was I scared? No.
So… Why was I crying?
My friend asked me that question over and over as I tried to calm my breathing. At last, I replied: Kristen Stewart was simply too hot. Kristin Stewart was so attractive that I wept in the backseat of my friend's car at her birthday party. So, the moral of the story? Kristen Stewart should be sent to space, become a monk, or never be allowed to act ever again. Or all three. But I knew that something must be done. Her power is so great that anyone who watches Charlie’s Angels will come out. Period, end of sentence. They will come out and convince their parents to send them to an all-girls boarding school. So, this part is for Kristen Stewart:
You brought me to tears with your hotness, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for that embarrassment. Bella Swan is not who I see you as anymore. I can only view you as that woman from Charlie’s Angels. Erased in the whiteboard of my mind is Bella Swan, only to be replaced by a giant picture of Sabina Wilson. Everyone has seen your effect on me. Did you know my wallpaper was your face? My lock screen was, too. Another embarrassment I can’t forgive. I think even my parents knew about this terrible infatuation. Horrifying. I’ve written a poem to show how I feel about you—Kristen, I hope you enjoy:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Kristen Stewart makes you gay
