Hard to believe. All of my cynicism around the likelihood of actually finding a soul mate has been exposed and dissolved. The woman of my dreams has arrived.
Birds are singing.
Who says nice guys finish last? Horse poo. It only took me fifty-four or so years to find true love. Imagine how many people die loveless? Not this fella. Hell, no. I’m in love with the second most beautiful woman. (Mom is #1.)
I see rainbows.
Amazing what this love thing does to a person. I feel younger, lighter, and much less in need of that next beer. Annoying people tend to annoy me less now. Guy walking through the parking lot thumbing your phone, you just walked right in front of my moving car. I slam on my breaks, and the pie on my passenger seat mashes into my dash. But, does this upset me? Do I honk and give you the one-finger salute? Nope. This driver is in love. You’re not spoiling my day, mister.
Love is in the air.
Anyway, about my princess—she’s delightful! Sorry. Don’t mean to gush so much, but I can’t help myself. You know? It’s like they say: Once you stop trying so hard, and just leave things up to Nature, stuff has a tendency to work itself out. That’s what happened here. I went out nightly, in search of love. I had a few tiny tastes of romance here and there, but my relationships felt empty. Then, I made a rare grocery shopping trip, and accidentally bumped carts with an angel. Her smile melted me. I never imagined I’d find love next to the cured meats section.
Colors are brighter. The sky is bluer.
I followed my own advice, and asked if she’d share a peppermint latte with me. We loaded the groceries into our cars, strolled to Starbucks, and chatted like we’d known each other for decades. Conversation flowed. My heart pounded through my chest. Santa brought this naughty guy something nice in 2015.
I feel like skipping and singing Elton John songs.
Can’t wait to spend New Year’s Eve with her. That will be our fifth official date, and (tee hee) I think it might include (*gush*) a SLEEP-OVER! I know! Right? I haven’t been this excited since Pop handed me the keys to my first car.
I want to yell to the world: “I think I love her!”
Ooh, look, she just texted me. She’s so good about that. We have opened a wonderful channel of communication. I never need to wonder what’s on her mind. She tells me. Ah, a relationship built on a deep foundation of friendship.
Hey, Phil. It’s awkward not doing this in person, but I wanted you to know. Although you’re such a nice guy, this really isn’t working for me. I’m sorry.
Um. But. Fuck. Fuckity, fuck, fuck. Fine. Whatever. Didn’t like her that much, anyway. Need a drink. Well, I guess this nice guy is unfinished.
My next book, Nice Guy Unfinished, will be released in January.