So I guess you figured a long time ago what a sucker I am for anything romantic (and probably cheesy). With my obvious infatuation with Swift’s Love Story song lately, we started discussing at work how wonderful the Jane Austen movies and Mr. Darcy were, and how true gentlemen were more or less extinct. I quickly stopped agreeing and began arguing at that point, telling them about how incredibly romantic and very gentleman-ish my ex, from AGES ago, had been.
“Why in the world didn’t you keep him, then!” One of the chefs exclaimed. “Gentlemen don’t grow on trees, you know!”
“Well, we just didn’t fit.”
“But honey, you can live with that! What were you thinking, leaving him?” (She just assumed I left him!)
Clearly, that was a no-no, and we kept talking about men and love. I don’t worry about not having a boyfriend, I don’t worry about not having someone to be with, and I definitely don’t search for love. I live in this fairy tale where I believe we will bump into each other one day suddenly — and then we’ll ignite a spark, and perhaps create some history together. I believe love will come to me when it sees fit. What’s the rush? Perhaps I’m just cluelessly romantic and don’t want to believe in reality, but hey, let me live my fairy tale.
Discussing past and recent love interests with Phuc later, had me thinking how odd it is that I haven’t dated in a good while when I clearly can’t get enough of romance. And as sudden as that, I missed it. Not missed him, though I have to give him credit for being nearly perfect as a gentleman, but missed it. Missed… being in love. But had I really been in love? I don’t think I was. Perhaps I just missed being treated really, really nice, romantic nice. And feeling funny things.
Perhaps I just need to fall in love.
Listening: Taylor Swift – Love Story