"Even though he's going on the trip, I didn't cancel it because I really want to go to Spain regardless." She admitted, not too bummed about the pending breakup.
"Yes," I said as we walked through the foothills. "And you will find a hot Spaniard named Enrique Alejandro Diaz... he will have dazzling eyes, and a thick head of hair, a warm smile, and a seductive presence... he will teach you to tango and you can make out with him in front of what's-his-name..."
"I can't wait to practice my Spanish..." she gleamed.
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About Me
- Ali
- Fascinated by the movement of desire through Myth, literature, lyrics, religions, history, and shared experience -- and loving any good love story that arrests the heart and warrants a good sized cry towel -- I am a hopeless romantic at heart. But also a heady academic with a penchant for the feminine divine, who is rooted in a darling body wrought with emotions and feelings and perceptions of the vast and interpersonal relationships of the world, and effervescently intrigued by the dissolution of the fuzzy boundaries of self and other. More about me here: www.auspiciousprojects.com and twitterpated here: @manifestcookies
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