Love for the impossible

Felt like something that would only happen out of a movie script, but ironically it happened to me.

I mean how often does one fall in love with a masseur? It only took me my first time to a massage and 'bam!', for some reason I got infatuated with the masseur.

Either this makes me sound like another desperate horny gay man or the masseur was simply too cute with a charming personality, or both, anyway what matters was all I could think of was the masseur on my way back home after the massage.

I think maybe I'm just not the massage kind of guy, I mean how could one possibly mistaken the intimacy of a massage as any other gesture than a professional service offered by a person who was just doing his job of making you feel comfortable?

I find that I have a knack of looking for love in all the impossible (and ludicrous) places. Why is this so? Is it because of my love for the impossible? Or is it because it is only the impossible that is worth my love?

What's most funny was that the masseur actually had the same name as me, now just how am I supposed to forget that? I really love fate and the silly dilemmas it put me in sometimes.