Tuesday, October 2, 2012


You know, one good thing about my husband not reading this blog is the freedom I have to confess things he really doesn't need to know. But I can tell you guys anything, right?

*leans in closer*

Wanna know a secret?

*looks over shoulder*

I'm in love with someone else.

Oh, it feels so good just to say it! Let me tell you, loveys. It all happened so innocently the other day. I walked into the store and the most deliciously-scented man behind me said, (in the most delicious voice) "Can I help you find something?"

Picture it:
(Actually, picture it in slow-motion, if you don't mind. So you'll get the maximum effect.)
I turned to face The Voice, hair whipping around (in slow-mo, like a Pantene commercial), and that is when I saw HIM.

Now, when I say HIM, I don't mean some random guy. No, loveys. HIM stood about 6 feet tall; trim-yet-muscular build; eyes that penetrated (yeah, they penetrated, no drinks or dinner first or anything); and the most smooth, beautiful caramel brown skin I've ever seen.

I completely lost my senses! I asked for a lotion by Soap & Glory, but it came out kinda like, "I-E-I...A-duh-hee."

You don't understand. And words don't really do him justice, I'm afraid.

I was gonna whip out my camera and take a pic for you guys, but I was already stammering, staring and salivating. Didn't want to come off as creepy or anything.

But here's a pic of someone eerily similar to HIM:

"Can I help you find something, Helena? Perhaps your senses?"
Okay, loveys. Now back to me.

Anyhoo, I came home with a skip in my step and a glow on my face, happy as can be.

The next day, hubs came home from the same store, (after exchanging something for me, bless his heart), and I'll be damned if he didn't have the exact same skip in his step and glow on his face. He sets the shopping bag down, puffs out his chest, and goes, "The guy at the store liked my shirt. He said I have a really great look." 

I grabbed the receipt, scanned it for the clerk's name, and felt my heart drop to my butt.  I turned to my husband in utter shock, barely able to squeak out, "Oh my gosh. We have the same boyfriend."

He shrugged it off, said something like, "What can I say? I'm a hot commodity," and swaggered out of the room. Proud as a peacock.

Psh! I should have seen it coming, guys, yet I ignored all the signs.

HIM was way out of my league from the beginning. (But I'm a sucker for an underdog story. I thought maybe this was my own.)
HIM works at my own slice of heaven, Sephora, and his makeup looked more natural than mine ever could. (Still, I told myself, we can make it work!)
And one tiny detail I skimmed over - HIM doesn't like girls. (Okay, fine. *waves white flag*)

But let me tell you, blog fam. For that brief moment in my week (and in my imagination), I was happy and carefree and in lust with that beautiful man, HIM.

Legal disclaimer: Marital Law, Section 22, Code 7 forces me to tell you this: My husband totally reads my blogs, usually before anyone else. So it's totally okay that I'm sharing this with you. This was posted with his permission. Don't believe me? Here he is, reading this very post, days before you are:

"Just me at home with my wife, Helena. Approving of her blog posts."