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Tales From The Front

There Is A
Happily Ever After..

by Colette Wintrom

May 14, 2019

It was a Friday night and I was alone again, but not by choice.  I had planned to be at a party standing exquisitely attired next to the tall handsome man I’d been dating for the past three months.  However, he had not shown up or called, and he was three hours late.

As I sat staring out the window at the busy traffic below, I recalled all the anxious times in my dating life I had spent waiting on a man to either show up or call, and on this night I ached from what I called, “frontline fatigue.”  It seemed that for the last year or so, I had scurried from one “promising encounter” to another in search of the companionship I yearned for.  But thus far, I had not been successful.  It was as if I held up an invisible magnet that attracted only those who either wanted me for awhile, or really didn’t want me at all.  Some encounters had been better than others, but none had lasted past the starting gate.  I wanted to be married, but it didn’t seem to be in the stars for me.

As self pity induced me to sink even lower in the chair, and reflect on my experiences.  I wondered if it was something I was doing wrong.  I prided myself on being kind, cooperative and generous, and I convinced myself that these characteristics would assure me admiration and respect.  However, it had not happened yet.

It seemed that every time I had targeted a man with an arrow from Cupid’s bow, I failed to hit a bull’s eye, and ended up with a wounded heart.  There had been some good times, but they had been few and far between.

I was especially discouraged on this night because I’d had high hopes for this relationship.  This man had been like a breath of fresh air, and I had imagined that perhaps finally I had met the man of my dreams.  He seemed to really care.   But, apparently I was wrong.

When the phone finally rang, I grabbed it in anticipation of hearing his voice giving me an excuse I could live with.  However, it was my sister.  I was glad she had called as I began to vent my frustration at my latest male disappointment.  She listened sympathetically and when I finished, she reminded me gently of my habit of falling into relationships where I usually held high expectations that proved to be fruitless.  The truth of her words stung as I hung up the phone in tears.

When the doorbell rang a half hour later, I knew it was her coming over to try and comfort me.  However, when I opened the door, there stood my boyfriend with a dozen roses and a big grin on his face.  It turned out he had been in a car accident and he couldn’t call because the battery on his cell phone had died.

When he sat the roses on the table, he pulled a small box out of his pocket, got down on one knee, and asked me to marry him.  When I said yes through flowing tears, he presented me with the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.  At last, my high expectations seemed in accordance with the universe.

 

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