In hindsight, I was destined to marry a foreigner. Some people are born to marry a NASCAR fan, or a banker, or insert whatever “type” you have here ___________.
I’ve always been fascinated by cultures outside of my own. Toss in a pair of puppy dog eyes and a sexy accent – I’m sold. No offense to my hot red-blooded American men, though I adore you, the spark was never going to be the same. We would have been like a one dimensional 4th of July fountain fizzling out far too quickly whereas me and a man from a foreign land would be like those crazy aerial cakes shooting for the stars in multi-colored glory leaving lingering picturesque impressions in the skies.
I owe my destiny (and type) to that of pen pal writing. Continue reading