I like when, in movies, crazy attractive people can’t get dates, haven’t had boyfriends in years, and the last left without reason, picking someone dressed less showy (we’ll meet her later under embarrassing circumstances), with a diminutive job, a ring bigger than diamonds you’ve seen in real life, because TV’s the stuff of scaling up, and the only time someone on film had a small ____ was for comedy value. But real life’s not funny like that. People kill themselves for less.
I forget the lessons I learnt in school, lose another each year, will never think being’s enough, got taught that functioning well’s about labelling regret’s even when there weren’t any. Being happy’s not very healthy. It’s better to want to regress and the best you can hope for is a good man. No princes here, but that wouldn’t be righteous, would it?
I’m glad men can overcome quirks, accept Reese Witherspoon for the horrible workaholic, bad decision maker, over-dresser she is.