You could say that I’m a bit of a mad woman. Long conversations with single women can do that to you. Why men aka assholes aka liars aka playas aka exes do what they do has been pondered upon over many glasses of wine and plates of kim chee fried rice.
And to hear me and my girls talk and laugh about it –in all our raunchy, unabashed, no holds barred conversation– you’d think it’s funny. It’s all shits and giggles until someone gets hurt which is absolutely inevitable. Someone ALWAYS gets hurt.
But that’s ok. That’s expected isn’t it? I mean, only one person can be The One so by deduction, everyone else will become The Ex. Suffice it to say that the pain doesn’t get any less bearable. But the funny thing is that the heart doesn’t love any less. Regardless of how deep your cuts go or how dark your hurt is, you always seem to find yourself back at the place you swore you’d never be again — vulnerable.
I’ve said before that women just keep waiting for a man to sweep us off our feet. Waiting for someone somewhere to prove us wrong about all the generalizations we’ve made about them. Waiting for someone to show that he’s different. We keep waiting for the perfect relationship with the perfect man.
We might as well buy a fucking unicorn.
I heard somewhere that people are too caught up in finding a perfect love, when instead they should be creating a perfect love. Because nothing comes perfect. Even the prettiest diamond was once a lump of fucking coal. And that guy that your friends just introduced you to is kind of… impressive. And it’s kind of refreshing. And you’re all kinds of cute about it.
So maybe instead of shopping for that unicorn, we just try and not be so angry. And instead of bracing ourselves for the fall, we just enjoy the flight. And even though our past tells us that all guys are assholes, we let ourselves think that unicorns still exist.
Maybe just for now. Maybe just for pretend. Maybe just for a little bit of hope or even better, a little bit of happiness.