I am obsessed with Black and White movies

Everyone looks more elegant, beautiful in these opposites. Their voices appear as music, slight english accents tint the mood as lovely concert music adorns the surreal fantasy. And the romances- for their so, simple. A boy falls in love with a beautiful girl. She doesn't develop cancer or have bad breath or have big hips. She is perfect and sweet and charming. But, the problem, the dilemma with their seemingly perfect lives is that their gilded. It's an idea and the desire for that envied simplicity that almost drugs them to act the way they do. But later, when the woman gains forty pounds and her voice has grown quite corse, her hair lost it's shining curls, the husband will realize that it was all a fantasy, an illusion. Life is not black and white and beauty fades and reveals weird habits and anger management. That his aging desires refuse to be faithful and accept breaking vows. The woman pretends to be blind- but, no. She knows everything and while her one true love is seducing his artificially blonde secretary, the wife is desperately trying to get her daughter married. For what? So she can live the same tedious, deceiving life as her? So she can live her days praying for a savior? The problem with classic movies is not only the lack of color but the lack of reality. The presence of two emotions: wild despair or extreme bliss.