Her name is Danielle. At least that’s what she told me.

And on a night seventeen years ago, she told me I was undateable. That didn’t stop us from having some fun. A lot of fun. That wasn’t the point.

I’m still undateable, although now it’s by choice. I don’t want to marry. I don’t even want to date. I don’t want to regularly threaten my peace. My solitude.

Is that strange? Really, is it?

It’s a rare soul who is comfortable in a room. Alone. With no distractions.

Many nights, I’m comfortable with Pascal’s torment.

Yet not all. I still have wants. Needs. Desires.

And there are so many beautiful women out there. With their wants. Needs. Desires.

When she walks into the room, our eyes meet. We both know what we want. We both know we can have the other. Pure love radiates between us, bringing the temperature up in the room ever so slightly.

No, I’ll never be your husband. I’ll never be your boyfriend.

But I’ll be your lover... forever.

Yes. I’d like that. Very much.

Come. Into my world. It’s fantastic here.

What i'm listening to:

Still Crazy After All These Years
Paul Simon
Still Crazy After All These Years