She reminds me of you.
An actress in a TV series. She has the same dark brown hair curtaining a sweet, elfin face, her fringe worn long. Her eyes look out from beneath it like a curious, wild animal. They are the same dark brown, although not as wide or as eloquent as yours. Though they do sparkle and wrinkle up at the edges in that same adorable way.
When she smiles I can see you sitting opposite me in the restaurant on that distant, sad, yet somehow hopeful last day. It is so clear. I can almost feel your small, cool hand on mine.
She is petite – perhaps even a little shorter than your perfect five two. Her legs aren’t as good – no one in the world has calves so wonderfully sculpted. Her figure is similar – slim, with curves, and deliciously pert breasts. She has your walk – the slight roll of the hips, head back. Shy and proud at the same time.
In the television story she has an affair with an older, married man. I could see it coming a mile off. Perhaps that makes it even more poignant.
Anyway, she reminds me of you.
The programme is truly awful.
But I watch it every week.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
The photo was used as an advertisement from the documentary film Mademoiselle C. My apologies for stealing it, but I have credited the film. It has absolutely nothing to do with this post and is for illustrative purposes only. Although there is actually also a passing resemblance – but again, her legs aren’t as good.