The Curse of the Eternal Romantic

I'm cursed. I've tried to find loopholes, work arounds, and technicalities, but it's official. There's no hope for me. I am cursed to be an eternal romantic. I have to accept my fate and everything that comes with it, including:

• First date butterflies.
• First date freakouts. (OHMYGODIHAVENOTHINGTOWEAR!)
• Shazam! The electricity when your hands first touch.
• Kisses that leave you weak in the knees.
• The deep shade of red that climbs into your cheeks when they wink/smile at/flirt with you.
• The constant vigil, checking and rechecking your phone, email, snail mail, smoke signals, all in hopes they contacted you.
• Post-first date recaps with bestest girl friends, preferably with copious amounts of wine and giggles.

Source

Then finally, just as all of this settles down and you feel like you can return to a life of normalcy, the second date is planned and the whole vicious cycle repeats. New outfits must be purchased, new shades of lip gloss are tested, and you start reminding yourself to not get too ahead of things. It's only a second date.

There are many aspects to this Curse. Some of the better-known effects include irrational emotional responses, pining, over-evaluating/analyzing, shopping, thinking, freaking out, and the possibility of making excuses for poor behavior on their part.

Seeing as I'm also cursed blessed with being a writer and therefore possess an active imagination, The Curse of the Eternal Romantic has one final, wretched effect.

The "I wonders." And warning: these can be both positive and negative...

I wonder what our kids would look like.
I wonder if this person would help support my dreams.
I wonder if they don't really like me and are just using me.

I wonder why they asked me out in the first place.

I wonder if we would get along on trips.

I wonder if they see themselves doing something I see myself doing.
I wonder if they're honest.
I wonder if this person is damaged and I should run for the hills.

And the Granddaddy of them all:

I wonder if this person is the one...

Damn you, romance writers! You make it look so easy, so effortless. All I need is a swank marketing/publishing job in London and THEN I'll find Mr. Darcy Destiny! Or worse, I just need to become the Quirky Damsel in Distress and Mr. Right will be there to help solve the problem. Gah. I have more integrity than that, unfortunately.

There's no anecdote to the Curse of the Eternal Romantic. Unfortunately, the only thing we can do is Wait. The Wait sucks as it can be accompanied by Doubt, which when combined, have the potential to leave you a slobbering mess of tears and regret while you pour another cup of wine.

And yes, us Eternal Romantics drink our wine in cups--not glasses. It helps stimulate the overactive imagination.