Geographically Challenged

Hello again, and my apologies for my prolonged absence. Life does have a way of, well, getting in the way doesn't it?

So I'm finding myself once again up against my proclivity for "emotionally distant and geographically challenged" men. I don't know what it is, but the further a man lives from me the more interested in them I am. I believe I've already mentioned my New York Ex... well now I can add my London Infatuation.

While in the Caribbean on a very challenging co-production with a UK company, I found myself surrounded by Brits. Funny (and attractive) accents surrounded me on all sides, but I took it in stride, befriended the Brits, even started adopting their slang. (Although it sounds ridiculous to say "sodding" in a Canadian accent) In turn, I found I was adopted, made part of the family so to speak. I was so impressed by the talent and work ethic of the British crew, I was honoured to be an honourary member. We would all return from long shoot days to our luxury resort, eat gourmet food together, and drink rum punches until we could barely stand. It was heaven.

And then one night, it happened. I was minding my own business, drinking my face off in good company, when someone thought it would be funny to mock propose to me! Oh well, if that wasn't unsettling enough, one of my British pals decided he'd have none of it, and scooped me onto his lap, effectively staking his claim to my time and affection, assuming I would give it. Lucky for him, I find talent exceptionally sexy and I was amenable to the situation. Seven lovely nights spooning in a 5 star bed ensued, and I wouldn't change it for the world.

But then reality crashed on my head. The shoot ended, and we returned to our respective cities. Myself to Toronto, Him to London. Now the rational part of me understands this was a week of comfort in a strange land... two people thrown together who found common ground and shared interests and a certain amount of solace from a demanding job by litterally falling asleep in each other's arms. But the daydreamer in me... now she's dangerous.

She likes the exoticism. She likes the idea of pulling up stakes and running of to a new life, a new world. She likes the fairy tale. She likes it when the movies lie to her and tell her that these sorts of things always work out. Despite the fact that's she's quite painfully been proven wrong in the past.

So how do I deal with the daydreamer? How do I set her right? How do I tell her to let go of the fantasy and move on, find a nice local boy, have a real life right here, right now? I don't, I suppose... I let her dream, I indulge her star eyed optimism for a few weeks... and I keep her from sending ridiculous emails (honestly it's how the last one got started... I have no idea of the power of my own prose!) and I slowly let her let go... move on... find a nice local boy and build ridiculous fantasies around him... there was that cute bar owner a couple months back, maybe I can renew her interest in him?