And then I cried...

I have a track record of dating some real winners.

And by winners, I mean absolute and complete losers.

It's true to say that I have an uncanny knack of finding the one guy who is going to cheat, in a room full of men who otherwise have only admirable intentions. Honestly, I don't even know how it happens. It's like a radar of some sort; an involuntary tractor beam that shoots out from my heart and pulls me right to him.

The thing is, that one guy - henceforth known as 'The Cheater' - doesn't even look like the other men. The other men, all of them being a more suitable match for me, are wearing collared shirts with ties, slacks with pleats, and the occasional penny loafer. Their hair is combed, teeth brushed, bodies toned, and intelligence seems to seep out of every pore in their bodies.

The Cheater? No, he doesn't look a thing like them. He's dirty and grimy, with shifty eyes. His clothes are mismatched and torn; and truthfully, that's only if he felt it necessary to even put a shirt on that day. His greasy hair is sticking out in all directions and the stench of his breath is enough to kill flowers. The Cheater has, most likely, never seen the inside of a gym and I'd be surprised if he could spell the word 'IQ', let alone have one.

How it is I can look past all those 'perfect' men and find The Cheater, I'll never know. Like I said, it's some knee-jerk reaction inside my thoracic cavity that jump starts the entire process. As far as I'm concerned, it's unmediated and thoroughly unwanted.

However, there is good news on the horizon, friends. After a very meaningful and healing 'dry spell', it seems I have finally found the right man - better yet, the perfect man - for me.

Cliched as it may sound, Xander completes the part of me - the empty, hollow part - that I've been desperately seeking a plug for. Although, he is so much more than just a plug.

He's attentive, intelligent, and sexy beyond all reason. He makes me think and explore a part of my mind I may have forgotten existed. He's funny, sweet, and adorable on more levels than I can possibly begin to explain. He gets me; understands who I am, where I'm going in my life, what's important to me, why I do what I do, and how flawed my world really is. He's warm, caring, and makes one helluva Boston cream pie.

But honestly, folks, all of the above took a backseat to three little words. When we finally exchanged them, after much dancing and prancing around them, I knew that my life had finally changed for the better.

He loves me.

I love him.

And really, what is this world without a little bit of love?