We hide ourselves in flannel sheets during the summer heat.
Or in the backs of cool movie theaters with the flashing movie picture reflected on our emotion filled faces. We carry tote bags packed full of organic vegetables and walk eccentric dogs. We lovingly caress dog-eared pages as our eyes devour words written in times past. We are a whirlwind of activity on late Sunday mornings, flour on our faces, or dirt on our hands. We saunter up to pool tables in less than chic pubs only to laugh loudly when we win or lose. We are in the museums, watching the people as carefully as we examine the art. We work the 9 to 5 at local health food stores until we have a cushion of cash to spring board ourselves into trips to Europe. We write on napkins, receipts and business cards. We feast on fruit and drink wine while laying on a roof, alone listening to the music that plays in our head. We look up, and around hopeful that maybe, just maybe, a gentleman is searching for what we have, and in turn they have what we hold in esteem.
Just look a little closer. I am out here, wandering solo in the vast place that is romance. I bet there are women like me, but different meant for men like you.