Well Swedish men have it going on too.
Trust me.
After having my ex-boyfriend steal my heart, barbecue it, hack it into tiny pieces, chew it up, spit it out, throw it in the trash, and see to it that it was buried deep in a dump full of garbage, it had taken some time to try to dig my heart out and dust the poor little thing off.
Three weeks into my stay in Alicante, a gorgeous seaside city in Spain, I went on a mini-break to another tourist town on the coast of Spain with a friend of mine.
I had not had much to drink. I felt like garbage. Tiny little dresses I had purchased before I came to Spain no longer fit (thank you broken heart's appetite for Spanish icecream and chocolate), and I furiously tried on 6 different dresses watching my sad excuse for a waist line look worse in each as my friend stood on the balcony flaunting her outfit to the men on the street below. Poor sweetheart forgets she's in the gay district.
I settled on the most flattering dress I could find and, feeling like shit, decided to make the best of our night out. I hadn't intended to meet anyone. I was sober, in a dress too small for me, and had no idea where to find any clubs.
We sauntered along the beach and heard music leading us down the small promenade. Bingo. Tons of beach clubs. We walked towards one in particular and a bitchy blonde handing out the flyers to get into the club turned away from us as if to deny us entry. I felt even more shit in my dress and we continued on to the next club.
Success. After knocking back a pint and hitting the dance floor, I went to get a second beer and saw what appeared to be a Greek God.
6'7. Tall. Very Tall. Blonde. Very Blonde. Tanned, Muscular. Perfect.
One of those guys you look at and think "If only.." and turn away. No plans on making a move. What would be the point? Out of my league pure and simple, and I knew it.
A tap on my shoulder.
"Hey!".
I turn around. Shock. Hello Greek God.
Turns out not only is he beautiful, but he's hilarious. Huge smile, perfect white teeth. And SWEDISH. I always knew what they said about Swedish women, but I'd never met one, and I certainly never contemplated the fact that Swedish men are just as breath-taking.
He bought me a beer, my grumpy friend watched in the distance as we chatted and laughed. I guessed his sign. Aquarius. I was right. Magic. My favourite sign.
He leaned over and kissed me. The best kiss I've ever experienced. When he was buying us more drinks later his Dutch friend told me: "Ee seys you 'av very soft and bootiful big lips!"
We danced for the rest of the night. At one moment he thought I was leaving the club and he SPRINTED after me with panic in his eyes telling me to not leave without telling him! We exchanged numbers. I was delighted.
At the end of the night, my friend left with a very sketchy man, and I was left alone with my Swedish babe.
His favourite word was "Awesome" which he had recently learned. He was big into surfing and fitness. We held hands and walked along the promenade and bought pizza which was "awesome". Then we stole a sunchair and brought them close to the shore and cuddled while watching the sunset. Very romantic. Very Hollywood movie. I was in heaven.
I met an angel that night and my very broken damaged heart was dug up a little further out of the trash and shined ever so slightly by a Swedish Angel.
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