So you`ve been meandering through a ‘singletons` desert wasteland of no dates, no interests, no chemistry, no nothing.You`ve made a decision that you need to get perspective. You need to stop making stupid decisions regarding men….more importantly…you need to heal your soul. And you undertake this journey of self-discovery, you put a personal embargo on men (and sex) and decide that, for what it`s worth, you will discover the girl you were and the woman you are meant to be.

And it`s a long arduous journey filled with self-doubt, introspection and nights of intense lonliness. And, one day, you wake up …and you`re smiling. And you`re carefree…and you realise you`re come to that place where you know you, you like you and you will make the best decision for you. It`s liberating and empowering. You feel like taking on the world. *smile*

And then the embargo is lifted, but things aren`t the same. Because you are now the woman you were meant to be and what you wanted from a companion has changed. You`ve become a lot more savvy and picky some would say full of shit. So, you take it easy and you tentatively start doing the whole dating dance… A string of exhausting first-dates later and you one day confess to the bf – that`s echoes language for best-friend – that the most dismal thing is not that you are single (because in some strange definitive Jean way you don`t really want to force the issue) or that you put so much effort into getting ready for each date (when apparently times have changed and some men are no longer interested in creating an impression). The dismal thing is that there isn`t any pull. No chemistry. No feeling that you don`t care what happens from here on in, because you`re so absorbed by him – just because he gets you. No warning bell in the back of your mind that says the person that you have just met is going to be really really important in your life somehow. No feeling of having walked into a brick wall. No shortness of breath and tongue-tied moments.

Just…polite interest.

There`s some serious interest in you, sure enough – But you just don`t feel excited about anybody. There`s just no damn butterflies.

And secretly, in your heart of girlie hearts, it`s like this: you want to fall in love. And you start to realise that the pragmatist, the realist in you always scorned the concept of ‘falling in love`, putting it down to endorphins and hormones….but you`ve come to that point in your journey, where you know that you deserve love. You deserve to be loved. And you have every right to be inlove in the most breath-taking way.

*smile* Don`t hold it against me and don`t ever accuse me of being a big ‘old softie. I`m still the same ambitious, independent cow I`ve always been. But I`ve come full circle. Reading though my posts of the last two months, I`ve realised that the edge seems to be off and I no longer say I aspire to…I say I AM. I am all the things I really want to be and I`m not prepared to short-change myself on love, to prove that I`m this chick with a ‘tude in 9inch heels.

So here`s the thing… I say bring back romance and walks in the rain, and silly spontaneous gestures with your sweetie. Bring back the ability to call a grown man your honey or your damn stud muffin. Bring back perfect dates and grand gestures. And being so smitten that you gush at every opportunity. Bring back the ability to blush when he gives you that look.

Bring back public displays of affection and kissing for the sake of kissing. And being so giddy at the thought of seeing him or her later that you can hardly breathe when you think about. Bring back that feeling that your heart is thundering in your ears because he`s in the room. Bring back long conversations on the phone, e-mails that make you laugh; and stupid, silly text messages that make you smile like a loon.

I say…bring back the lost art of falling in love.

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