Being fed the dream of; “there is someone for everyone,” she finds her life has been too focused on that thought, that hope. That quickly fading dream. Bad dates, binge drinking, heartbreak, she still clings tot he idea that there is someone, some, one person just for her.
Until, she hits the wall and can no longer believe in this myth. What happens when all the hopes and dreams she has hung her life on… turns out to be a lie?
Written by Rebecca Milton
Published by AmorBooks
They say, and who “they” are is the greatest mystery of the universe. I often pictured a room full of men, yes, men, because men make the rules, don’t they? Men decide what we can do with our bodies and how we should dress and… no, please don’t get me started on that whole bag of eels. With beards. Bearded eels. That’s not supposed to be a sexual or anatomical reference, if I wanted to say penis I’d say penis. Or dick. Or cock or Johnson. The men in the room I picture, the ‘they’ of legend and song, are men who sport long, untamed beards. Like Walt Whitman. Only, Walt wouldn’t be in that room, telling women how to dress. He’d be telling men how to undress. I digress. So, the bag of eels would have beards. Bearded eels.
Men.
Point being, what I started to say, is that they say there is someone for everyone…
