I wanted to share my secret to eternal youth this week, but I couldn’t think of one. Then I thought I could let you in on how at the age of 53, I’ve invested wisely and am now retired, except that this is not the case.
So instead I’m going to share something that I think is pretty interesting. I was looking at the data collected from GoogleAnalytics, a free service from Google that shows which key words people are punching into their search boxes, and how many of them there are. What I discovered is that the majority of people using the web are trying to find their perfect mate! Uh oh, wait! I think that also includes porn sites. Geez. I shouldn’t be surprised, since just about all of my single friends use online dating these days. I even have friends who tell me, “I’ve got to find time to get on Match.com!”.
If only they realized that their type of “Mr. Right” is not anywhere but between the pages of a book. Because having been in a relationship for over 25 years with the same partner, I can attest that it ain’t like what these single friends are yearning for. It is not necessarily bad, it just isn’t romance every day!
If I were looking, I definitely wouldn’t look for a potential relationship online! They pick the picture themselves and they write things that make them appear like they are auctioning themselves off on the block!
If I were looking for love, I would join a tango class, or a bowling league, or maybe just go the library and get some Harlequin romance novels and drift away in a comfortable chair. Or just order online at my favorite book site: Better World Books. A much better company than Amazon to support, by the way.
Here’s a quote from a summer read that I recently picked up (no pun intended). Let me know if you agree with me that reading about romance might be better than an actual relationship. It’s cheaper. There is no compromise. When your heart gets broken, vicariously of course, it will be better by the end of the book.
He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me into a room – his room.
Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind
and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear,
Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong,
calloused hands start at my ankles – gently probing and
moving upward along my calves – slowly, but steadily.
My breath caught in my throat.
I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn’t care.
His touch was so experienced, so sure.
When his hands moved onto my thighs, I gave a slight
shudder and partly closed my eyes.
My pulse was pounding.
I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage.
And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands,
I inhaled sharply.
Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted – he brought
his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.
Although I knew nothing about this man – I felt oddly trusting and expectant.
This is a man, a man used to taking charge.
A man not used to taking ‘no’ for an answer.
A man who would tell me what he wanted.
A man who would look into my soul and say,
“Okay ma’am – you can now board your flight!”.