Like a movie, my life now…. This ‘regular guy’ gets financially and emotionally banged-up down through this life, and finally ends up with a kind, pretty, wonderful independent woman. And he’s smitten. And his world starts to taste better and better. And it’s gradual that he realizes he’s blossoming and that he’s happier and happier with everything around him, and she saturates his existence with her patient, beautiful aura. So it’s not an infatuation or delusion. He really has, finally, found good soil to grow in. And then there’s also this bitter-and-sweet moment where the audience realizes that he could have been happy his whole life if he had found what he ‘actually needed’ (true love) from the start, and not after making bad choices and living through the delusions and mistakes of younger, modern life. Also the duality of reveling in being in love with the right person who fulfills him, but also the realization that eventually someone has to pass-on. Something that never actually bothered him about a spouse or partner before. He spends these fantastic moments with her, cue the montage of laughter, travel, moments, intimacy, and then suddenly, (but no record-scratch) the audience is taken to an ultra- modern mental institution, and he’s nearly 90 years old in a bed with tubes in and out of him. He slowly realizes he had never met Breia and that in fact she was a senile delusion or even something he experienced psychotically in his fifties. In fact, he had been married to his third battle-axe who wasn’t even there by his death bed. She was off fighting over his estate. A tear rolls down his cheek. He is about to die very alone. And then, a hand slides onto the bed rail over his hand. And he looks up and it’s Breia. She’s 47 again just like always and she’s smiling and she says “Don’t worry. I’ll always be with you. Come along now.” and roll credits.