Me. Romantic? Hardly so, then maybe yes. Still believing in true love, or true lust or both. Shedding tears at movies where the girl gets the guy, or the guy gets the girl, or the guy gets the guy or, even, the girl gets the girl. Whatever works as long as there is a happy ending. I love happy endings.
My own attempts at dating would make a romantic comedy look like slapstick. Dating again at, well, at, oh dear lord, at almost 62. Then six dogs sitting in the window waiting for me to return from whatever outing I am on. Barking so loudly, tripping over each other to jump on me as I open the kitchen door. The last date I had ran from my house, brushing dog hair off his black shirt, yelling back at me I have a headache. I thought that was my line.
Then I sat on the couch, trying to decide if his leaving was a good thing or a bad thing, and six dogs came to cheer me. One on my neck, two on my lap, two on the floor and one slobbering kisses on my cheek as I laughed so hard tears ran down my face.
Is there a man who can compete with a six pack at home? Is there one that would even want to try? I live with the notion that love will find a way. Or lust will take the time to stay for a visit. A dice roll, but I am a gambler.
I sit at my computer, my music playing into the soft night light around me, five dogs on the floor surrounding my chair and the sixth tucked into the curve of my back between me and the chair improving my posture as I still straight so I won't crush the dear pup.
If you peek in the window and wonder what I am doing, I am singing loudly with Diana Krall, Let's Fall In Love anticipating the fact that at any given moment love may be just around the corner. I look at my dogs and no matter what is ahead this gal is covered in fur and surrounded by love.
Yes, I am a romantic. Silly, hopeful, not needy, but loving the idea that love is all around. A surprise waiting to happen. The notion of a romance maybe more exciting than romance itself. Whatever it is, I am singing the songs of love into the wee hours of the morning as I write the night away.