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Sep. 15th, 2008 10:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeanvieveIt's a sad, sad day when fellas are finding it weird to even flirt with girls that aren't next door. One cannot be next door to everyone! And since when is 100-1,000 miles long distance? Okay, 1,000 miles is a respectable distance, but one could be connected by hubs and low priced plane tickets. Locals!!
When I lived in Colorado, I fell in love with a Canadian. A great two and a half years, and I loved living in Canada. Well, loved the people lots and lots. A regrettable ending, but I got so many memories and friends out of it that in the end the good outweighed the bad.
Then there was my Australian. Ah, how I spent days a quiver with anticipation over the next email or letter. I wrote more for him than I have before or since, and I loved the stories we created together. My soul mate? Maybe. In the end being separate nationalities became an issue when his job here didn't pan out. Another splendid couple of years, no regrets and I wish him well. (Would that I had met him now. It would have worked now, with my life being the way it is.)
I tried domestics. Texas. New Mexico. My Oregonian, that got me out here the first time. A few in Denver, with the reluctant discovery that the boy next door is sometimes very naughty. And alas, not in the good way.
Then my Croatian, whom I married. Still no regrets.
To regret is to be wistful for what you didn't try. The things you weren't brave enough to do. It's completely bewildering to me to be dismissed on the basis of a very minor geographical anomaly. What's with men these days?
I want a new showerhead.
When I lived in Colorado, I fell in love with a Canadian. A great two and a half years, and I loved living in Canada. Well, loved the people lots and lots. A regrettable ending, but I got so many memories and friends out of it that in the end the good outweighed the bad.
Then there was my Australian. Ah, how I spent days a quiver with anticipation over the next email or letter. I wrote more for him than I have before or since, and I loved the stories we created together. My soul mate? Maybe. In the end being separate nationalities became an issue when his job here didn't pan out. Another splendid couple of years, no regrets and I wish him well. (Would that I had met him now. It would have worked now, with my life being the way it is.)
I tried domestics. Texas. New Mexico. My Oregonian, that got me out here the first time. A few in Denver, with the reluctant discovery that the boy next door is sometimes very naughty. And alas, not in the good way.
Then my Croatian, whom I married. Still no regrets.
To regret is to be wistful for what you didn't try. The things you weren't brave enough to do. It's completely bewildering to me to be dismissed on the basis of a very minor geographical anomaly. What's with men these days?
I want a new showerhead.
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Sorry.
Date: 2008-09-21 08:30 am (UTC)Re: Sorry.
Date: 2008-09-21 05:29 pm (UTC)