Imperfect Love

I grew up having no clue about the true meaning of love. Money. Cars. Houses. Status. Fame. That’s what love means to the people around me. It wasn’t until the woman I picked up in a bar came back into my life and showed me love can be so much more. So, what’s the problem? The woman I’m falling in love with believes in fairytales. She compares everything to a storybook and wants the happily-ever-after. So while she’s stuck on recreating stories that have already been told, page by page, I’m showing her it’s time we write our own book.

Going deep: In football, it means running down the field for a long pass. You’re serious. Committed. Unstoppable. As a wide receiver, it’s a term I’m all too familiar with. It’s who I am, at least when it comes to my career. For the past decade, football has been the only thing I’ve allowed myself to commit to. That is, until a beautiful, blue-eyed temptress steps into my limo to escort me to a charity function. She’s strong, independent, and quick witted. Everything I want in a woman. There’s just one problem. She’s not mine for the taking.

People see what they want to see. They only view what’s on the surface, and they’re easy to fool. I let them see on the outside that I’m a successful businesswoman. My clothes are designer, my makeup flawless, and I live in a high-rise condo in Lennox Hills. They see perfection, not what lies beneath the surface. The real me - the one I keep hidden - is a broken-hearted woman who uses the makeup to hide her tears. The expensive clothing covers a heart once shattered by love.