And he said to her...

"Can you tell me why men love to see women in high heels?"

He glanced into the room full of party people trying to find a tasteful woman in high heels to answer such a silly question.

"It's simple really, when a woman wears heels it adds more contour to her leg... and the bottom of the 'S' curve in her back... well, it's more noticeable... see?"  As she sliped on her teal and black tiger striped heels and turned her contorted posture around for his viewing pleasure.  "I've never understood why... it's so sexual.  When love takes place it shouldn't be because of the facsade.  It's all exterior..."

"And you're one of those girls who believes that love is spiritual in nature?  That romance is still alive?  That men AREN'T visual creatures?"

It was that very moment that she realized that no matter how hard she tried, she was destined to play the game.  She could work on her very core, but the only one it pleases is her, it seems.  Her life would be a mucky mess of lipstick, eyeliner, tweezers, soft black #1 hair dye, curling irons, padded bras, garters, the gym, food to feed a mouse and fat free low carb beverages (with or without alcohol.)  All for what?  For cavemen style grunts as she walked into a room?  For empty promises and failed relationships?  There has to be more to this than just the exoteric manifestations that men have grown to love...

It took her back to one point in time.... maybe a few actually.  The beginning of every major relationship she's endured over the years.  The loving glances and gentle strokes that made her feel like a walk under the cherry blossoms on a warm spring day... new, melted and beautiful.  But just like that amazing springtime show, that feeling never really lasted long.  And it always seemed harrowing to reignite those fanciful flames.  She knew in her heart and the depths of her soul that love should never be so hard.  When things work, like the toaster calmly browning whole grain goodness to perfection, it's never that difficult.  Was this a quixotic paradigm?  To want something that just works?  Love should never be so laborious.  Or should it? 

Love never leaves... it stains the heart, she thought.  She could recount special moments.  Moments in time that were engraved upon her soul.  Moments that she could recall in her brain as if they just happened.  Like her high school sweetie and the tickle contention that resulted in a broken bed, smashed lamp and the hottest make out session this side of the Mississippi.  Perhaps that stabbing twenty-something love affair that single-handedly brought her into womanhood.  He was passionate and funny.  Her sides still hurt from laughter... and maybe being tied up a little too long in that exact position.  That man that she married one day, he used to make her moxie swell... adventurous, yet safe, and tender.  She traded him in for the grubby exciting motorbike rider.  Crazy locks that blew in the wind is exactly how that boy made her soul feel; free and wild.  That silly girl traced back her steps to find herself in the arms of her beloved, again.  The one that made her feel most like a human.  The one that she felt most like herself when in his presence.... All the sweet moments came rushing in like a high tide.

These loves ended many different ways.  Sometimes her fault.  Sometimes not.  All like a toaster on the fritz.  Burning that blueberry bagel into something reminiscent of a vulcanized rubber disc commonly used for ice hockey.  Any way you look at it, none were easy. None were easy, especially one.  Quietly walking away was the hardest on her heart.  He was the one that she shared everything with, good or bad.   And the end cut deeper than any blade could burrow.  Even though these loves have ended, they have never left.  Instead they turned into mental stumbling blocks.  They made her very careful not to make the same mistakes again.  Although ended, these loves still tugged at her heart.  They made her yearn for more of those moments. Unforgettable moments that made it all worthwhile.

He looked at her in her thoughtful stupor and decided it was time to bring her back to Earth.  "I like it when you have no make-up on and your hair frizzy and matted first thing in the morning."  He patiently waited, watching her body language to detect her reception of such an odd comment.  "I like it when you giggle to yourself, when you have an obnoxious cliche saying for just about every occurrence, when you speak your own language..." Frantically adding more seemed like a good idea, "You are gorgeous to me, inside and out."

"How is that possible, I'm not wearing my heels."  She smiled, thinking another moment might just be transpiring.

"I've seen enough of your heels..."