Max sips on a gin and tonic while I order a glass of wine.I turn toward him, expecting him to tell me about his life, his job, his general male prowess.He doesn't.
“Please,” he says in a voice as smooth as silk, “tell me about yourself.”
I hesitate, taken aback by the genuine look in his eyes.A look that says he truly wants to know about me.Nodding with a new sort of confidence, I do something I'm not very used to doing—I talk about myself.
Before I know it, almost two hours have passed along with two more glasses of wine.Unlike many first dates I've had, I haven't found myself itching to get away or making excuses to leave early.We've talked about work, family, friends, and of course, our persistent matchmaker, Emily.
I think I could see myself with someone like Max.He’s warm, kind, and frankly, normal.My mind wanders, picturing what my life could look like with someone normal, someone without baggage.Could it last once he found out about mine, though?Will he throw me away when he discovers how broken I am?Could I be content to be just a normal woman with a normal man?
I spend my days with my brain and heart thoroughly rooted in books.On every page, romance, suspense, and danger blend together into something breathtaking.But that's not real life.Real life is working, cooking dinner, going to the movies, and cleaning the damn bathroom.It's not some romantic adventure.There's no princes or villains.There's just this.
I take a large gulp of my wine, hoping that the alcohol will calm my busy mind.I have to move forward with normal.Normal is what every woman should want.It's what I should want.
If I decide to be normal, will my stalker let me go?
