I miss being called darling

There are few things a single gal can't take care of on her own.
Insert snicker here.
But there is one thing in particular that just cannot be accomplished no matter how clever she may be.

I cannot sweet talk myself.

I know I'm extraordinary.
I peer at my reflection and smile at the loveliness I see before me.
But sometimes I really long for someone else to see me.
And for that handsome somebody to tell me all they're delighting in.

I am such a sucker for sappy saccharine nonsense it's ridiculous.
Oh I'm one tough cookie and I will claim I don't care one way or the other til I'm blue in the face but the truth is, I love it when guys sweet talk me.
I don't care if it's contrived.
Sue me.

I had one lover who only ever called me baby when he was being intensely affectionate and reading or hearing that word made my heart leap right out of the rabbit hole.

Sweetie. Darling. Love?
Be still my leaping heart. I am putty in your hands.

One lover even called me darlink.
Creativity only scores you double points.

I could lie and say I'm far too intelligent for all that but the part of me that giggles giddily when a guy calls me beautiful is the same part that still fawns all over Disney movies.
I'm kind of 29 going on 14 when it comes to certain things.

And I think that makes me all the more lovable.
Honey.