Fifty-Seven

February 26, 2012 § Leave a comment

Day 57.

Once upon a time there was a girl who liked all of the wrong boys. If there was a guy who lived in another country, a man who already had a girlfriend, or a boy who knew nothing about love, she liked him. It was nothing she ever did on purpose; she did not seek out the men with drinking problems or the ones who were diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but yet those were the ones that tended to stand out in her life. If she had her way, maybe she wouldn’t like the artist type, she thought. If it was really up to her she would choose the ones with careers and money, not the ones with guitars and high hopes.

Her romantic nature got the best of her every time. She would meet a young man and know he was probably not the type that would provide her with a big house or a brand new car. Her track record proved that if she liked his hair he would leave her. Too many times the ones with the skateboards would break her heart, and if his smile was too good to be true she knew it would all end in tears. But behind the wrong she always seemed to find the right. Sense of humor stood out like a sore thumb, artistic ability drew her in with its moody energy, and the unique talents stirred her heart. Behind the flaws she saw a kind man, a warm soul, and a good story. She never expected her men to change nor did she ever seem to want them to.

Valentine’s Day, Friday nights, big events always found this girl alone. Whether it was because she let him go, or he had other things on his mind that led him astray, or he just never realized she was standing right in front of him, Mr. Right was never there when she needed him. “The next one will be different,” was her consolation, but before she knew it she was falling, once again, for someone just out of her reach.

But like every great romantic-comedy she had ever seen, this girl knew that a good love story has its ups and downs, its fantastic characters making not-so -fantastic choices, and the right man coming through in the end. A story worth telling had lovers brimming with eccentricity, an unpredictably amusing plot, and an affection that flourished despite cash flow or personality flaws. So each day she stayed patient, refusing to write off the guys with great hair or guitars on their backs, knowing that some wonderful day she would find her happily ever after.

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