I Think They Write This Stuff Just For Me . . .

I'm either emotionally perfect, or emotionally easy. Not sure which. But I'll be the first to admit - I am a SUCKER for the romantic.

Always have been. Probably came from years of watching Disney princess movies and Days of Our Lives with Grandpa. Waiting on the farm for some prince to ride in on his white horse and sweep me off my feet. Took me quite a while to realize that in my small town, best I could expect was some guy LISTENING to Prince to ride in on his white USED MUSTANG (if he didn't need my Dad to pull him out of the ditch, first) and sweep the floor with his knuckles. If I wanted romance, I needed to get out of town and go make some myself.

Which is why I love a good romantic movie. Its a perfect escape. When I'm down here by myself, and the kids go to bed, I torture myself with romantic movies. Even when I know the setup, I still wait for it, watching the tension build, waiting for those little missed signals and crossed wires to finally all come together in that epic kiss.

Last night it was a rerun of Pretty Woman. You know, she doesn't kiss on the mouth, but then gives it up for Richard Gere. Yeah, I got sucked into the faux intimacy. AGAIN. Tonight, it was Made of Honor. The scene in the bar during her "bachelorette" party where she's selling kisses to the locals for money. (It's apparently a tradition - wish I'd known that - I could have PAID for my wedding) Patrick Dempsey (*sigh*), her best friend, is one of the last ones, and he says "this is all I have" and drops a few coins in her pot, and then gives her the kiss of a lifetime. And you can watch her face battling her instinct and her social expectations, but she gives in anyway, losing herself in the kiss. I was breathless, and I was just sitting here on the couch!

Give me a movie who can do that first kiss scene right - the ones that make you hold your breath, counting the seconds until their lips meet, feeling the air being pushed out of the space between them, wishing you could be there at the exact moment when your heart stops racing and pauses indefinitely and the bottom drops out of your stomach and . . .

. . . and then you realize its just a movie, and its you and a box of kleenexes and the couch pillow you've twisted up and have started biting and when its over you're going to be sleeping in the bed by yourself with the pillows around you and you're going to work in the morning where you likely won't kiss anyone at all . . . and certainly not Patrick Dempsey. *sigh*

When the movie finished, they advertised the upcoming John Cusack marathon in two weeks . . . when Dr Chako is in Chicago for a conference and I'm home alone again, watching romantic movies. I'm toast.

Dreaming of first kisses . . .

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife