Picture this: a long romantic walk on a deserted beach with this strange man that you met a bar two weeks ago. As he gently caresses your chin and pulls you closer, you wonder whether he wants to kiss you or kidnap you. You think that maybe being kidnapped wouldn’t be so bad, considering your calves hurt from walking in the sand for hours and being kidnapped means you wouldn’t have to walk anymore. You decide being kidnapped might be a nice vacation from life and go in for the kiss with high hopes. Either way, this works out.
Don’t be that girl.
I honestly never understood the excitement of long walks on the beach and I have a persistent fear that the next man I fall in love with will be the modern day Ted Bundy. Unfortunately, I also happen to be a hopeless romantic who tends to trust blindly. All reservations aside, my ideal date ends with a kiss. Perhaps on a carousel, surrounded by a large crowd and plenty of security.
Now picture this: it’s a warm summer day at your town fair and you’ve just eaten soft pink cotton candy and he wants to know how it tastes. Cue sweet, delicate, cotton candy kisses. There’s no fear of kidnapping because you’re close enough to literally run home and the fire fighters would probably protect you anyway. Your guard is down and the taste of cotton candy swarms your senses as he pulls you so close that the two of you become one. Perfection.
Have I been single too long? Let ya girl know. You miss all the shots you don’t take.