Paper Mache Unicorn

Most people have a unicorn in their life. I believe the urban dictionary has some rather interesting definitions for “unicorn” that I want nothing to do with. My definition stems from the fact that sometimes a mythical creature trots into your life spreading rainbow glitter, but the magic doesn’t actually exist. He is really a donkey with a plunger on his head. And the glitter? It’s sand that you are looking at through a microscope. It might shimmer in the right light, but it’s still not real glitter.

So this man is a specimen. To say he is hot barely cuts the surface, but honestly I’m done going for just a pretty face. Been there, done that, and then spent years blogging about it. When I first met this Unicorn I honestly didn’t think much of our interaction. It was at a sporting function about a year ago. Before I had even met Daddy Long Legs (read: A friend of mine had a HUGE crush on this Unicorn. She went on about his flawless body, piercing eyes, and stallion-like features. It wasn’t until she showed me a picture of him that I even realized I had met him.

Months passed. She forgot about him and I was busy. As time went by and I found myself single, the Unicorn himself reached out to me on Facebook, the epitome of the 21st century move. We had long conversations and actually had a lot in common. Tired of social media ruining modern interaction, I was like, “Dude, here’s my number.” With the amount we talked on Facebook I would have thought we would have been jumping over fucking rainbows by now and flying off into the sunset . . . but you can’t ride the Unicorn. That is strictly prohibited.

What do I mean by this nonsense? I mean: Boys are dumb. Or, girls are dumb because we have our head in the clouds and chase rainbows looking for gold. 

I gave him my number. We continued to text a little bit. We hung out once with a bunch of mutual friends. It was fun– and then nothing– leaving me a bit confused. This guy was so open on Facebook; he asked questions, wanted to get to know me, but never actually asked me out. I asked a mutual friend, Panda, to talk to him to figure out what-the-hell-is-going-on. And his response was comical.

Apparently the Unicorn was looking for the real thing. Am I not the real thing? I would like to think that I am the real deal. I’ve climbed some mountains, chased some rainbows, and even done my fair share of skinny dipping. But his version of real was like real love. Someone who he could spend the rest of his life with. Confused, I asked Panda “So this is why he didn’t want to ask me out?” and he gave me the same response, he wants the real thing. He must have not seen this with me. But my question to him is how the hell are you going to find out if you like someone if you never ask them out???? Isn’t that what dating is for? Do we go on one date and shimmy on over to the courthouse? I was mad. I’m GREAT at first dates and thats all I wanted. Second date… not so great. But I didn’t even get a chance to mess it up or say something stupid. What if after one date he wasn’t so shiny? What if he said something stupid or messed it up? 

I’d like to think this unicorn was just a donkey with a horn made of paper mache but he’s still pretty shiny,  he’s just not a rainbow I’m going to chase. What I’m really trying to say is, get close enough to see if the horn is real and the glitter actually sparkles. If you are too far to tell then you aren’t missing anything.  Unicorns sparkle from a distance for a reason, the real ones you want are the horses that leave your sheets a glittery mess and then make you rainbows for breakfast.



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