Kissing frogs

Ever wonder why some people stick and others don’t?

I’m missing Mr. K.

Why did he stick, of all people?

The heart wants ridiculous, irrational things.

My heart is stupid beyond belief.

There are things I want him to say and do, things I know he will never say or do.

I know he will just hurt me.

Over and over again.

Because he can’t give me what I deserve.

Maybe I’m a masochist.

But I miss his skin.

I miss his eyes.

I miss his sarcasm.

I miss him wanting me.

I miss talking to him.

There are things I have no control over.

I can’t control how I feel or why.

All I can do is keep trying to find someone who is right for me.

Who can and will give me what I deserve.

What I need and want.

He’s not that guy, no matter how much I wish he was.

I have to be patient, kiss more frogs.

But patience is not my strong suit in this area.

And the slime from kissing frogs makes my lips feel gross.

I actually hate dating.

I really do.

It’s not as fun as it seems.

It’s definitely not like how it is in the movies.

All that “meet cute” bullshit.

I feel like my dating life is like one really long episode of Sex and the City.

Full of surreal and/or funny situations that you have to live through in order to believe, but in the end, there’s no happily ever after.

Just unresolved drama and disappointment.

Blah.

But I keep trying.

Because I’m not a quitter.

Part of me always carries that hope that I’ll find another great love.

Somewhere in the sea of frogs, he’ll be there.

Wondering where I’ve been hiding all along.

And I’ll punch him for making me wait for so long.

Then I’ll say, “Pucker up”.