Truth be told, I have no real beef with The Romantic. In a lot of ways, I admire him. Going after a woman the way he does, with his heart on his sleeve, takes guts. Dare I say it takes more guts than the way I approach a woman, which is often times with no heart at all. At least, not emotional heart. What The Romantic doesn’t do, is something I can respect. He doesn’t give up. He has one mission in life and that’s to find the love of it. He’s been hurt before (though he won’t tell you he’s hurt others too) and yet, he still picks himself up and tries again. Tries, tries, tries, tries, because he believes in love like little kids believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. And it’s that kind of naivete I wish I had, because I’ll be honest, I may have more fun than him, but sometimes, I think he’s happier than me. People often confuse the two.

I have to give props where props are due. The Romantic is idealistic, optimistic, and in his heart of hearts, believes himself to be realistic, so who am I to tell him he’s wrong? Any man I would set my sister up with is good in my book, and The Romantic is that man.

Don’t get me wrong, the player is an egotistical jerk sometimes so appalling, even I shudder. But he means well, if only to himself. You see, the player just doesn’t want to get hurt and honestly, he doesn’t want to hurt others. As a matter of fact, when I think about it, The Player has never made a woman cry to the extent I have made a woman cry. He keeps it honest, real, and would rather punch a woman in the stomach, than kick her in the back. (Okay, wait, that was a bad metaphor. The Player doesn’t put his hands on a woman. Nor do I. But you know what I’m trying to say, right? The Player is honest, to a fault.)

The Player is honest about who he is from the start. I tell a woman she’s the only one, even if I don’t know for sure. The Player tells a woman she’s not the only one, that much he knows for sure If there’s one thing I’ve learned from The Player, it’s the value of being honest not only to women but to ourselves. He knows he isn’t ready for a relationship, so he never acts like it. He also knows, not all women want a relationship, so why treat them like they do? His ways may all be a defensive mechanism for him not to end up like me, but sometimes being me sucks. When I’m really down about one woman who hasn’t called me back or is giving me the run-around, I look at The Player and say, Damn, that life looks just as good. Still, I would never introduce him to my sister.