Dear MK

I hope you don"t mind that I am making this public. Read on my love, don't get jealous that I am posting this, a part of a journal entry I wrote few months before you came to my life.

You made dreams come true...

I miss drinking vodka. Work load doesn’t allow me even one glass these days. I still dream of sharing one bottle with a guy, on the beach, under the moon and the stars, laughing all night, smooching, puckering, French kissing, with a bouquet of red roses and Suzanne Vega on the background, singing Gypsy (that goes like this oh hold me like baby that will not fall asleep), and talking... just talking until you see the sun rising and then Im gonna sleep with his arms around me. (oh im being romantic again) My perfect date, my perfect dream…anybody?

I wonder if any of those men will be able to give it to me. Hopeless romantics. I wonder if I have to be really “girly” so that guys wouldn’t see me as one tough cookie who cant be wooed by flowers! The man who managed to constantly give me bouquets, I gave up for a guy who constantly understands my erratic moods and stands by my murderous tantrums. (talk about choosing between the one you love and the one who loves you)

I miss love. Nothing could amount to that feeling of being able to accept all the flaws of the one you chose. Life taught me how to be rationale, I’m hating it now. Reasons ruins faith…human reasons that is. I miss lying down a man’s lap, admiring his beautiful face and pondering how lucky I must have been that God sent an angel for me to love. Comfort now, I took as love. Compatibility, yes I see that as love too. But what will love be anyway without those things anyway?

Oh I could talk about all of these things until the end of the world. Bottom line is I miss somebody, that somebody who called my Calypso. Come back.

I don't need anybody to come back anymore because you filled that hollow space that somebody made when he left for the desserts of Phoenix. I am feeling romantic and I love you...