His arms descended eloquently and bent at perfect sixty degree angles into his silver polyester jacket, with a golden scorpion embroidered on the back. The camera slowly ascended up his backside, and stopped just as soon as it reached his head as he turned around. He was clean shaven, with high cheek bones and a long nose dividing them and his two beautiful blue eyes. His short, gently quaffed, dirty blonde hair resisted any sort of wind during the time of the filming and he had no idea of my existence.

I love Ryan Gosling: the epitome of perfection. The first film that made me conceive the idea that I might love him was Drive, and then Crazy Stupid Love only strengthened that idea, but it wasn’t until I watched Blue Valentine could I finally confess openly that I truly adore Ryan Gosling in the sincerest claim of love possible. He’s incredibly handsome and kind to his fans. He’s genuinely funny and charming, and the amount of talent he possesses continues to impress. He can act, sing, dance, write, and I bet that when it comes to sex, Ryan Gosling can deliver above and beyond the normal ecstasy. His penis looks to be quite impressive too (thanks to a shot in Blue Valentine where I could discern the outline of it in his pants.)

It’s not very often that someone as perfect as Ryan Gosling comes around, but he is here. He exists in the same frame of time that I do and the only reason I think that this is so, is because Ryan and I are destined to know each other. I too want to be in films one day however I want to remain more towards the Crew side more than Cast.

As a child, I grew up essentially watching movies everyday, and by doing so, in a strange way, the actors, writers, producers, and directors of Hollywood have become like my family. I feel as if I know them and that if I were to stumble upon any of them on the street they would know my name as if I was an old friend or relative. Yet I know this isn’t true. Though I know everything about them, they don’t know me at all. They do not know that they have inspired, encouraged, helped, and saved me multiple times and that without them, life would be unbearable. That’s the worst part. Ryan Gosling has no idea of the amount of respect and love I have for him, and to meet him in a crowd of fans I know that I would be just another face.

I’ve often imagined a scenario where Ryan and I bump into each other somewhere and as much as I wish for it, I dread it because I would not know what to say. There would be no words that could express how his life has impacted mine. How terrible that would be: to finally stand in front of the person you love most, and them not even know it, or know you for that matter. So instead of a spontaneous chance meeting, I went to Los Angeles to try and meet him, at an appointed time, at an appointed place and the following is an account of such an endeavor.