Everyone's favorite, right? Here are some overly romantic stories of the men that were a part of my life, some were good, but most were not. We love and we learn, eh?

Wolf On Wallstreet I

It all starts with a subtle glint in ones eye. That’s how all good stories start out. That wild flicker that flares up like the sun bursting forth with lava, and cuts you deep like the subway screeching down those cold steel rails. That boy, that looked at you and broke you for a split second. That moment, you were caught in his gaze and he was tangled in yours, and you saw natural disasters, rubies and onyx, cosmos and galaxies spinning, and everything that steals the breath out of your pink lungs at once. 
You were taking orders, and in that second you thought about grabbing his hand and running out of the restaurant, past everyone stuck on their mundane dates and business dinners. And then you look away, embarrassed and so does he. Then there’s a shift in the room, and people start to notice this electricity between two strangers. All the while you are wondering if you should just walk up and kiss him, or maybe you made this entire feeling up. That you never felt that, and neither did he.
That moment that just happened was real. It just changed your life. And when he walks over to say “Hi,” he won’t say, “Hey I’m a mess” or “I have an addiction” or “I don’t know who I am” or “My parents treated me like shit” or most importantly, “I’m broken.”
No, when he says hi, you’ll feel all that, and you’ll realize you found a real person. And in the next second, when he realizes you can see into his soul, you will have one more second to decide to turn around and pretend this never happened…or to buy the ticket and get on the ride.
And when he looks up again at you and that wild spark flickers in his ocean eyes, and he starts to walk towards you, you know exactly what you’ll choose. 


“Tell me your favorite color,” I said, tangled in his cloud like sheets, listening to us grow apart. 


“Try to describe me in one sentence,” I said my long hair dangled across my shoulders. My breath smelled like wine, his of vodka, the liquids that brought us crashing together. He thought for a second and then looked at me softly. “Star gazer…” he said, and those words triggered tiny diamonds pooling in my eyes, as one spilled silently down my cheek.

Nip Tuck

El Mar