Wookin' Pa Nub

I am a hopeless romantic.  Love is something I have given freely my whole life to those who deserve it (or sometimes don't).  Chris was my first crush.  He was in my kindergarten class.   His house was down the street from mine.  I can remember playing a game of "hug tag" in the schoolyard at recess.  Chris, Paul, and I created the rules.

Yaya: "Ok so you catch them by hugging them."
Paul: "Yes, you have to hug them for 3 seconds."
Chris: "And then they're 'it'?"
Yaya: "Yes."  I batted my eyelashes at Chris letting him know he would be my target and he should feel free to make me his.

Paul was first being "it" and he ran straight for me.  I ran as fast as I could away from him.  But he was faster than me.  When he caught me and hugged me I yelled "I don't want you to catch me, I want Chris to."  When I ran after Chris and hugged him, he was underwhelmed.  My 5-year-old brain could not comprehend that my "love" for this 5-year-old boy was not being returned.  We were meant to be together.  Hug tag had set it in motion.  I should've learned my lesson in love that day.

My love life has been pretty eventful since I was a teenager.  And I'm not talking about "the nasty".  In fact I was pretty much a prude in high school.  What I'm really talking about is being in relationships.  I have lived with 2 boyfriends, been in love 3 times (or 7 depending on what day you ask me), and am convinced my true love story will be epic.  What I mean by true love story, is the story of me and the man I spend the rest of my life with.  Why epic?  I have always loved to read, write and hear love stories.  And I don't mean dumb ass Nicolas Sparks "The Notebook" bullshit.  Okay maybe I do, sans Dementia.    Some of my real life love stories are pretty great and I still enjoy telling them.  It's the endings that suck.

My entire love life, like most other's, has been based on a series of coincidences.  Now don't write me off because I understand that coincidences are what make you miss 8 hours of traffic or prevent you from sitting on bird shit on a park bench.   Love Coincidences deserve their own celestial category.  Why?  Because I'm the writer. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "Oh it's meant to be."  "This must be fate." And thought "How can this NOT work out."  I've had men reenter my life after years of separation and we gave it a "go".  Childhood crushes became adult love connections.  Unfortunately, or fortunately, I'm still single.  I wonder if it's possible to use up all of your "it's fate"-ness? Like can you run out of it from saying it too much?  Do I even believe in fate?  It kind of makes a better story now doesn't it?

I was truly convinced after watching The Bachelorette this evening that Ali would not choose Roberto.  Why?  Because I believe he was meant for me.  I would bump into him in an airport and we would lock eyes at gate B24.  He would then salsa his way over to me repeating "Te amo".  He would be carrying around the diamond ring waiting for his next love.  I don't care if that diamond was meant for Ali.  It's mine now Schm-Ali.  And there I would be, coincidentally dressed in white.

But seriously what the fuck?  How many times do I have to think that "this time is gonna be it" only to have the dude underwhelm me or I underwhelm them.  If one more person tells me to stop "looking for love", I'm gonna love (AKA punch) their bo jangles.  Let's be clear I'm not looking for love, I'm just still boy crazy.  I love being in love.  And while perfectly content living my life alone I also want to read, write, and tell my true love story.  I suppose the most exciting thing about reading a story is you do not know the ending.  Unless it's about Juliet.  We all know how that ended.

And in case you live in a van down by the river, "Wookin' Pa Nub" was Eddie Murphy's rendition of Buckwheat singing "Looking For Love".  Classic.