Tamara Sapa

From East to West

Lavender scented candles, dirty dishes in the sink, clothes on the bathroom floor, and leftover flower-scented bubble suds in the bathtub. It was a cold day in the middle of February, and Fitzwilliam Darcy was waiting for me in the bedroom. Got as far as chapter five in the first book of the Gentleman series, planning on going onto chapter seven tonight. I originally organized going out with some girlfriends to Cocoa 70 for a chocolate pizza to celebrate Galantine’s Day (yes, Galantine’s day), but since two out of four in the group got sick, we decided to postpone. Instead, I spoiled myself to a steak dinner and Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, just wonderful. I was perfectly content with peace, good food, and a wonderful book. I had no need for Valentine’s Day. I’ve been free from a long-term relationship gone sour for three years and got to the point where I was happy enough to be Bridget Jones pre-Colin Firth (minus the smoking, excess drinking, and mom clothes). Failed dates and investing time in other men only to realize that you wasted it does that to you.