Sunday, November 09, 2008

I Have a Confession to Make


My last post seemed to resonate with some women out there, so I figure I should share a couple of my own most ridiculous, far from reality, 'happily ever after' scenarios. No, they do not include small rodents singing to me and making me dresses, but for as realistic as my fantasies are, there might as well be.

Without further ado:

I walk into a swanky bar, my date's hot hand on the small of my back. There, across the room, is the man who let me go. He is on a date with a beautiful woman. Mr. Let-Dauntless-Go notices me immediately and cannot peel his eyes from me. He is barely speaking to his date because of it. When I excuse myself from my date to go to the restroom, he does the same. He meets me in the hallway, professes his love and stupidity at letting me go, and asks me to end my date and meet him for coffee. Cut to the coffee shop. He and I are sipping from over-sized mugs. The camera recedes as I cautiously laugh at his joke, guarded at the beginning of this second chance.

Then there's the really bad one. This one's been around for 15 plus years.

Mr. Dauntless-is-great-but-I'm-not-ready-for-whatever-reason has told (or texted) me that we shouldn't see each other. That he is not ready for reason X,Y,or Z. I am heartbroken. Our connection, intellectual and physical, is so strong, I cannot fathom either of us could ever find anyone else. But, I am understanding of his X,Y, or Z reason (as I am eternally patient and kind) and know we shall live happily forever, regardless of the fact he has not yet come to the same conclusion. Until one stormy day, tragedy strikes. A terrible car accident has left me in the hospital, unconscious. When I come to, Mr. Dauntless-is-great-but-I'm-not-ready-for-whatever-reason is at my bedside, head bent, silently crying. I say something witty and he looks up, shocked at the sound of my voice. At this point, he professes his love, can't believe he almost lost me, and reason X,Y,Z is no longer an obstacle.

What!? Really? I'd put myself in physical harm (even only in my imagination) just to have some dope wake up to the realization that I'm awesome? And I call myself a feminist? That, my friends, is why this is a confession. And here's another:

Last night I was crossing the street when a bus almost turned into my path, leaving me a pancake. Instead of saying a prayer of thanks for the driver's opthamologist, I thought, "Hmmm..."

So, ladies, what's your go-to 'happily ever after' fantasy?

1 comment:

rachaelgking said...

I come home. The dishes are washed and put away. The laundry is humming in the dryer. The kitchen is sparkling, except for the warm dinner waiting for me in front of the TV. "Let's watch some Project Runway," he says. "Take off your shoes and let me rub your feet."

Sigh...