I like to start my articles as if we are in the middle of a conversation. So, romantic comedies are my favorite movies. This is obvious to anyone who has read some of my other articles, or to anyone who picked up on my not-so-subtle reference to “You've Got Mail” in the first sentence. Growing up, I viewed the world through the beautiful and perfect lens of the romantic comedy.

These movies gave me the optimism and the vision that I would grow up to be Meg Ryan or Julia Roberts, where a quirky personality is not only cute but a turn-on, and living in New York is not only affordable, but effortless. Unfortunately, though, I grew up (a little), left the bubble of my hometown and quickly realized that the romantic comedy world is an ideal -- and a very unreal one.

One of the first ways romantic comedies ruined me was the idealized version of New York that they all portray. I didn't grow up under a rock -- I knew that New York could be a disgusting and cold-hearted city. This did not stop me, however, from driving up to my first semester of college in the city with thoughts of cute coffee shops and walks in the park, all while the Annie soundtrack played in my head. New York to me was taking a carriage ride through the park, stopping by the Met to check out the latest exhibit, and wandering down to the East Village to check out a cool off-Broadway show I heard about.

Sadly, I soon learned that New York is not all carrying tote bags coming from a pop-up farmer's market. New York is a messy city crammed with way too many people that costs way too much money (those carriage rides are $50 a minute, I kid you not). Don't worry, I haven't lost all my faith in the enchanting and magical view of New York. I am proud to say that I do take walks in the park, and meet my friends at cute hole-in-the-wall coffee shops, but I do it while swerving through more people than I would choose to be close to, and avoiding piles of garbage that are taller than I am. I will always envision the beautiful movie version of New York, but I now know that it only exists in Hollywood and in my mind.

The other way that romantic comedies have ruined me (and let's be honest, most of the women in America) is in the area of men and relationships. My ideal man is Chris Pratt: a guy who is the perfect mix of the adorkable personality of Tom Hanks with the looks of Ryan Gosling (sorry about that, Tom). He is the guy who will take you to an amusement park and share a funnel cake with you, but also the guy who will put on a suit and impress your family. He is the guy who will give your friend a ride to the airport when you can't and bring you soup when you're sick, and who will always, always know how to make you laugh.

This guy may sound familiar to you because he is a compilation of all of the leading men in romantic comedies. This is the guy I have learned to look for and the guy I have obviously not found (but if anyone does know this guy, send me his number ASAP). This guy is perfect and, as I have learned, again only exists in that make-believe world of Hollywood. Romantic comedies did not prepare me for the realities of relationships. Men, unfortunately, do not come fully formed. They have flaws, and not just cute ones. Yes, I am aware that there is no such thing as the perfect man, but will I stop looking? Just try and stop me.

I know that I live in a world where, chances are, I won't meet my future husband after clumsily bumping into him at a neighborhood bookstore where we switch phones and have to meet up later to switch back only to realize that we are meant for each other -- but hey wouldn't that be awesome? I have come to realize that, no, my life may not turn out exactly like my favorite romantic comedy but that won't stop me from trying.

I will continue to listen to the “Annie” soundtrack as I walk down the streets of New York. And I will certainly keep a weather eye out for any cute guy walking through the park, because you never know: maybe we'll get tangled in his dog's leash and as we lock eyes we'll both know that we found the one. Hey, I said I grew up, but I haven't lost all hope.