Only one love at a time.

I'm a lover. And so is Ruaridh MacAlister, a Scotsman. But we're different kinds of lovers. I can love only one woman at a time. Ruaridh plays the field. Picture Ruaridh walking down the street. A woman on each arm. And maybe a woman traipsing behind. Ruaridh draws women from all around. Every woman is a conquest. He's a Don Juan, so to speak. He doesn't hesitate to tell a woman, "You're beautiful." And he reels them in. Right and left. And he makes love. Physical love. It's genuine. But very physical. And there's something to be said for that. But I like a love that runs far, far more deeper. Into the spirit. Into the soul. Focused on one. Not on the many. And love-making takes a long, long time. Getting to know someone. One. Ever so gradually. I understand where Ruaridh is coming from. That's his way. Right for him. Makes him feel like a true lover. But I couldn't handle Ruaridh's way. I need my own way. I'm a one-woman man. Always have been. Always will be. Ruaridh can make a conquest in a few days. Maybe overnight. I can't. I won't. Once thought all I would have was one love in a lifetime. That would be sufficient. But now, maybe it's two. Yes, two in a lifetime. Because I never want to give up on love. I never want to retire from love. I want to love forever. Or for as long as I'm alive and able. But only one love at a time. --Jim Broede