I Will Never Meet The Woman Of My Dreams (And That’s Okay)
I was on the phone with a friend last week, and made a joke about how appealing eternal bachelorhood sounded. She responded, “Oh please. A romantic like you? There’s no way you won’t get married.”
Oh, that damned word again. Romantic.
It wasn’t the first time I’ve been called one, and it probably won’t be the last. A few months ago, another friend had raised his glass to toast with me, proclaiming “To you and me — the greatest romantics in the world!” My best friend (and eventual best man, if I ever do get married) has laughingly referred to me as “the last of the great romantics” for years now.
Utter nonsense, if you ask me.
I get it, though. I spent years being an outspoken proponent for hopeless romanticism. I had my whole future drawn out, from the dream girl to the kids and the house in the…
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