It’s 11:07 on a Saturday night. There’s good wine, friends, and a fire burning in the fireplace.
– So, how was your date yesterday? François asks.
– Good! Things went well.
– That’s great, so when’s the next date?
– I don’t think there’ll be a second date. I’m not really interested. We just didn’t seem to click.
– What! Why don’t you give him a chance? No wonder you’re alone, you never call them back!
Ah, François. You just don’t understand. And you’re not the only one. So, for anyone who’s interested, here’s why a girl like me is single.
A girl like me doesn’t want sparks. I want fireworks. I don’t want a flame that fizzles out. I want a roaring fire. I don’t want to be indifferent, feeling neither hot nor cold (I know, I know, enough already with the references to fire! But I’m sitting in front of a fire. And I’ve got emotions, you know.) Maybe I’ll never find the love of my life. People say that a love that’s intense is a love that hurts. But a girl like me needs to live a little dangerously regardless of what people say. It’s not that I don’t give a damn, well, maybe partly.
It’s not complicated, François. I want someone who’ll crush me to his chest. Someone whose look makes me go weak in the knees. And vice-versa. Because we both have to feel the heat. I want him to want me, always. I want him to feel the need to touch me, talk to me, be with me, always. I’m not saying that I want him to touch me all the time, I just want him to want to. Not just once a week or after he’s had too much to drink. I’m talking about when we go out for coffee, or a walk, or for ice-cream. If he doesn’t see me upon waking, I want him to worry. I want his actions to be assured; that he not be afraid to risk my possible displeasure. I want my mere presence to make it difficult for him to concentrate.
François, I know you’ll say that this all seems a little too far-fetched. But I know it isn’t because it’s happened to me before. The relationship ended but that doesn’t make it any less real. I know you believed it possible, even for just a moment, before you convinced yourself that it wasn’t. Why does the seemingly impossible suddenly become possible when it’s based upon a true story? I’ve given sparkless first dates a second try, and a third, and plodded on for fear that I might miss a good thing if I give up too soon. Come on, sparks aren’t going to suddenly start flying after two months.
So François, that’s pretty much all I can say on the subject, for tonight. So yes, it’s irrational and sounds like something straight out of a fairy tale (for adults), and then some. But I swear it’s possible. So I’ll just keep on dating until I meet the guy who takes my breath away. I’ve got to have something to talk about when my girlfriends ask me when I’ll make aunties out of them (insert a note of sarcasm and an emoji laughing to tears, here).
I hope you’ll find a relationship like the one I want, François. It’s the kind of relationship that make us grow and warms our heart. You know you’d love it. After all, you always feel cold.
Comfortable Looks For The Office