The Reserves

WARNING WARNING WARNING

GAG ALERT

GAG ALERT

*This blog is not for the faint hearted, pessimistic, lonely, or anti-romantic!

Secretly (okay, well maybe NOT so secretly) I am an utter whore for romance. Not the scheduled-within-an-inch-of-your-life kind of romance, but the kind that happens spontaneously when two people are completely in love and say things that in a normal sane world would not only be laughable but absolutely ridiculous.

Here's where you might want to stop reading if you have a sensitive gag reflex.

I am SO in love, and I happen to be in love with a man who is smart, witty, charming, opens doors, talks like a romance novel, and does whatever he can to give me the world. I have gone from a lonely realist to a big pile of lovey-dovey mush. I don't know what it is exactly that I do that makes him so happy, but he makes me feel like freakin' Miss America on a daily basis. I just know that I am living every romantic fantasy I ever dreamed up.

(Done puking yet?)

FOR EXAMPLE...

Last night as we were cuddling Blake kissed each of my fingers and then the palm of my hand-something he does frequently that I absolutely love. As he finished he looked up at me and said, "You know what those are called, right?" I racked my brain, thinking, "Should I?" I said, looking all cute and confused, "No, what are they?"

Blake: "They're reserves."

Me: "Reserves?"

Blake: "Yeah, you know, reserves. For when we can't be together. They're reserve kisses so you

won't miss me so much."

Me: "...................."*

*"................" is a little known technical symbol for girl unable to speak due to an overexcess of happiness.

And now you may proceed with the gagging, vomiting, and eye rolling usually induced by such romantic notions.

I will be over here with my reserves.