The best advice I’ve ever heard is to ‘follow the butterflies’ which was given to me by my friend Mini Nizzle way back in February (you can read my first thoughts about it here). It’s slipped out of my mind over the past nine months to the point where I had stopped thinking about it all together. Bad girl aren’t I.
A situation arose recently where I thought I’d found the man for me, let’s call him Ellis. Ellis is a pleasing amount taller than me (I’d have to tiptoe to kiss), intelligent, handsome, a sense of humour (slightly cheesy but forgiveable), he ticked all the boxes I wanted ticked.
Oh there had to be a but and it’s a biggun’, not quite as sizeable as my arse once was but significant enough to warrant it’s own little paragraph up there.
There were no butterflies.
Not like with Columbus who from the moment I met him made my stomach flip floppy and fluttery and I couldn’t stop staring at his lips, willing him to kiss me, the fecker. With Columbus it felt like we were the only people in the room, nobody else mattered as we spent hours talking and laughing together. I was in a constant state of ‘grinning loon’ and spent an inordinate amount of time replaying our smoochy wooing in my head. The butterflies had well and truly set up shop and were doing a roaring trade in smile supplying. Until of course he went loopy and it all ended but that’s another story…
I wish there were butterflies with Ellis, I really do but unfortunately they’re not something you can conjure up, the fluttery little bastards. I’m off on a night out tonight with Mems and Moonface who seem determined that I should find a man, a thought which fills me with dread – finding a decent man who’d be interested in me in town on a Friday night? I’ve more chance of winning the lottery. Maybe I should stop looking for a man and start looking for butterflies?