Sure I’ve thought of him now and then – his smile, his kiss, his hypnotic gaze. I still have memories of how he said my name, his washboard tummy with ripples in only all the right places. I think of the comfortable comradeship, the killer chemistry, his voice, his words, the way he said those certain things. But in the end I must concede that fish had to be thrown back into the beckoning sea.

Our differences were glaring, and the red flags were blaring and when he spoke I often thought, “Mmm, Passion is hot, Obsession… not.”  I’m afraid Prince Charming you’ve kissed the wrong sleeping beauty.