When we are young, it is almost every girl's dream to meet a man
and fall madly in love, just like they do in the storybooks, you know the knight in shining armor shtick we are
all too familiar with. As we grow older we realize that there is very rarely a "storybook" romance. What
seems to be too good to be true, oftentimes, is exactly that. Yet despite being so well informed and wise as we
get older it seems that some of us still seem to reach for that ideal.
In my past attempts to find love I have tried ignoring the clichés, the misdirected hopes, and have instead
tried being sensible. It was simple, find someone who is responsible, knows what they are doing with their life,
and cares about me. But somehow that has never been enough. How could such pervasive desires not be sufficient?
What was the problem? After much agonizing over why I could never seem to be satisfied with a relationship that
looked so good on paper, I discovered what my trouble was. And it was all in a simple phone call.
I had been having a rough week, stressed out about a million different things (that would be five more than a usual
week) and feeling all around pretty miserable. As I checked my messages, slumped in my office chair, eyes closed
with my hands over my face, the messages rolled over to a familiar voice. I slowly sat up and leaned forward in
my chair, and began to smile a crooked smile. I brushed my hair away from my face, in a flirtatious manner, as
if there was someone in the room with me. As if all of this wasn't odd enough, I felt this warm wave come over
me, like I was embarrassed and excited at the same time. But it was more than that...nothing had ever made me feel
quite like that before - I can barely explain it. The message in itself was not so special - just a silly hello
out of the blue from a long-time friend. Inexplicably his boyish message made me feel like nothing ever had. Roses
and romantic gifts from guys who seemed more than "qualified" to fill that position of my dream man had
made me feel special, but never like that. But this was not my dream man. Or at least I didn't think he was. From
that point on, I noticed that he made me feel like no one else ever could. All that goopy, mushy, nonsensical stuff
- that same storybook love from our childhood dreams.
I had my taste of it - THAT is why all those sensible romances won't work for me. I have had a glimpse of what
it is like to live in that fantasy - how could I settle for anything but?
Unfortunately, my trip into fantasia has only complicated things. Having experienced this feeling has made it impossible
for me to imagine having anything less, but at the same time the one man who has succeeded in making me feel this
way is one I can't have. He is one of those friends who I can talk to about almost anything. There are no false
pretenses with him - I can be my truest self (even when the truest me isn't the best me). He is one of the very
few people that I have known half my life that hasn't drifted out of it for one reason or another. He has remained
my friend when it seemed that no one else would. I have no doubt that he is Prince Charming. But how foolish would
I be to give up so much, on the off chance that he might be my Prince Charming? Therefore I am at an impasse -
I am now so engrossed in this fairy tale...but I am too afraid to read the ending.
The End (?)