The Education of a Romantic


I was not allowed to read Mills and Boon novels growing up but that didn’t stop me from laying my hands on quite a few and with them transporting myself to a place where a guy stepped in and saved me from… well, everything. A handsome dude with well defined pecs and no problem lifting me would come into my life, sweep me off my feet, save me from all loneliness and be my everything. That was all well and good…until I grew up.

First off, this love business is hard. To make a love match is like having two strangers walking down a street filled with ice cream shops selling every conceivable flavour enter the same shop at the same time and order the same flavour. What are the odds?

Suddenly, handsome didn’t count so much anymore. I know I don’t want a Quasi Modo look-alike but I met so many fine dudes with very ugly insides so I scratched that off my list. Passable would do. Also, he was too busy with the business of balancing life and paying attention to important people to spend that much time at the gym.  I’m carrying a few ‘el-bees’ of my own anyway.

As for being rich, there were only two really viable ways for that to happen. Wait for someone to show up with all the dosh in his pockets in which case it would be a really long wait or pull an Anna Nicole Smith and hook the first rich geezer I laid my eyes on. Only problem was that neither of these options gave me any satisfaction. So I settled for someone who wouldn’t let me (and any possible kids) starve and would give me some nice things.

And the sweeping me off my feet, well turns out that he had a limp before because he’d tried to sweep some other girl off hers in the past and well, let’s just say she stomped him with her stiletto heels.

And as to being my everything. It turns out that he was only human. And I had to accept that he couldn’t be. So I wrote a different list and on that one the first thing was ‘friend’. ..along with the other modifications. J

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