I posted an ad in the newspaper last week. It was a Help Wanted article. You see, I'm tired of being the person who always initiates relationships. I'm talkative, but lonely. All of my other attempts at relationships have ended disastrously, with my heart getting torn to pieces, and then smaller pieces. So I decided to put an advertisement in the paper, looking for a trustworthy man who is willing to love me for me, not who they wish I was.
For the contact information in my ad, I’d said that any takers should meet me at the little café just down the street, the one on the corner of where Maple Street and Birch Road intersect. I’d said that I’d be there from noon until four everyday of the week except for Sunday. All I want is for one man to prove to me that they’re not all the same.
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