Ever marvel over how unexpectedly life can change?

Jobs, people, tastes in clothing, food and especially the unforeseen beginning or end of a relationship. And, while these events may occur separately, there's always the issue of the "relationship" that never fails to be the main topic of both excitement and fear.

So while I sit in the house and contemplate my own romantic apprehensions, I fret that maybe my theories on romance are completely incorrect. It is entirely possible that I unnecessarily martyr myself instead of falling in love. That my quest to love and honour myself has derailed my perception of what naturally is meant to occur between two people.

Now and then, when face to face with a budding romance I will become the martyr of self-sufficiency and delete these men pre-maturely from my life. Removing them from my phone, MSN and facebook is something I do to prove to myself I am not needy, co-dependant or desperate. So why do I feel disappointment when I am the one playing the role of the wicked witch locking myself in the tower?

Because I am also the designer clad princess waiting for my prince to come and save me from myself.