My Big Fat Greek Frog? Prince?

There are more words than one i can think of to sum up the week - bizarre, weird and ermm, a carousel ride too maybe? Dont get me wrong, its all that, in a good way. For a while now, i have a sneaking suspicion that i might be a bit of a drama queen, which is, at my age, not a very desirable quality. It all started last Saturday, a disconcerting answer to a question i asked pretty much upset me the entire week, until Thursday that is. Like they say, tragedy, given time, is comedy. And so, a bad movie, a good meal, a live band, and a couple of drinks managed to turn things around and made what seemingly was a lousy week into one that promises to be an enchanting weekend of romance, or so i thought. Then it happened, our first fight. Over something grotesquely moronic. I dont know if you can call it a fight, there were no hurling of insults at one another, no harsh words, not even the flashing of fiery eyes and to be honest, i was so titillated by the prospect of our first fight that it was hard for me to keep a straight face, in fact, i almost burst out in laughter while you were ignoring me. Fortunately i didnt, it would have been the worst thing to do in a fight, or a non-fight, whatever you call it.

Truth be told, i feel inadequate and little when i am with you. I feel the constant need to be smarter, wittier, funnier, prettier and girlier, all of which i am a far cry from. So why me? When you can have any girl your heart desires? Well, pretty much any girl apart from Kate Hudson, i dont really think you're her type. Sometimes i cringe at my lack of uniqueness, something, anything, that sets me apart from your run-of-the-mill 26-year-old. My flaws are evident, as hard as i try to hide them. I hate it when a sms from you sends my heart leaping, I hate it when i feel more, i hate it that i cant figure you out, i hate it when i know that you are all that i've ever wanted and i have nothing to back me up, i especially hate it when you see right through me. Despite the above, there were good times, like that afternoon at Starbucks where i had my legs on your lap while you read your papers and myself, 1984 (yes, i am still at it). And the night we cuddled in bed, no words were spoken, you lifted my head gently and planted kisses on my lips, and then i said dont do that, i dont mean to stop kissing me, but dont, dont melt my heart like you did.

How is it possible that i find myself once again in a labyrinth, and no matter which way i go, it keeps leading me back to the same spot, the spot where i found you? I guess there is nothing i can do but to hope that you do not devour me like Minotaur did ehh? So how did the barbeque go? Met the Greek chick you wanted yet? When you said "we" dont do jealousy, you mean blokes who think with their floppy disks right? You didnt let me finish that day before you spat on me, i was about to say that your funny accent, a cross between British and Greek? Love it.