Pologue
Love. A funny word if you think about it, It's something we don't use enough. I personally hate the word because it's something everyone is obsessed with and somehow the one thing I need to hear more than I wish to admit. My magic number is three, some people are five, some only one. I was "lucky" to love three men in my life. I wouldn't call myself lucky to have so much knowledge at the age of 25 cause obviously you can't have three husband's.
These stupid men that made me cry for who knows how many hours in total, all for what? The sentence "I love you" said with meaning? What happened to the men that open the door for you, make you breakfast, buy you flowers? These are things I thought to myself too many times in highschool, but let me tell you this. Not every guy is an asshole, some are kind, generous and loyal. You just gotta choose wisely, because the person you least expect could be your Romeo.
