Brand building through storytelling

Behind every dangerously messed up man there’s a vulnerable woman

A woman I don’t know has been on my mind lately.

I don’t know if her idea of a good book is Fifty Shades of Gray, The Joy of of Cooking or anything by Danielle Steel.

I don’t know if there are any books on her shelves.

I have no idea what her living room looks like, or whether anyone actually sits there.

I don’t know if she has a thing for junk food.

I don’t know if she walks a dog, and if said dog is her best friend in the world.

I don’t know if she has ever cast a vote for anyone I’d vote for.

I don’t know if she has ever worn a thong. I don’t know if she remembers to screw the cap tightly onto the mustard, as I rarely do myself, with less on my mind than this woman.

I don’t know how many hiding places she has found for the car keys.

I don’t know if she has ever believed in God.

I don’t know if the expression “Higher Power” sticks in her throat, or if she’s ever tried to say it.

I don’t know if she has anyone to call, at any hour of the day or night, who knows how to listen and not judge.

I don’t know how she remembers her wedding day.

I wonder if she wonders, “Have I ever been loved?”

I wonder if love between a man and a woman makes sense to her anymore.

I wonder what she tells the children.

I don’t know what she and I would say to each other if we found ourselves seatmates on a train.

I know that I felt sick when her husband told the press that he would never have oral sex with a hooker because he gets enough to eat at home.

I know that the longer Rob Ford remains Mayor of Toronto, the more I feel for Renata Ford.

Posted by Rona

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