Don’t get me wrong: I was born flirting. I’ll hold my hands up and say that I do love it when I think I have the power to wrap a man around my little finger’. I’ll agree I hold my heart out and the chosen one often gets tangled up in my mind, and text messages in the process. I love a good game and my ball-skills aren’t up to scratch outside of the bedroom. I love a challenge and the thrill of the chase. But I’m tired of it now.
Am I really too old to believe in the magic of love at the innocence of the white wedding, 2.4 family and happily ever after? I hope not… I love ‘love’: the falling, the dreaming, the wishing, the hoping, the butterflies – it almost makes the heartbreak worthwhile.
I toddled after the Ghostbusters car in London last weekend. While the handsome driver tingled those parts I’m forgetting exist and the cheeky smiles from the men behind the tiny wheels of Herbie, boosted my confidence to strike up conversation through the car window of a traffic jam. I couldn’t bring myself to get in the car and drive into the Ghostbusting sunset. The fact that I needed to be at work in South London the following morning and he was driving to Bristol did cross my mind. The ‘fun’ we could get up to testing this ghost busters gadgets did bring a smile BUT it quickly faded as the realisation of ‘just another notch’ rang through. I don’t have the energy for the games, I don’t have the tissues for the heartbreak or the phone bill for the whirlwind and that makes me sad. I’ve a lotta love to give and even more to receive – so where is he??
The lights turned green and the Ghostbusters drove off I dug out the number of an old flame and spent an hour on the phone flirting my way into a date…hopefully I’ll have found my mojo by date night!
Lady T – Jul 9th 2010