...when love is first in flower...

From Patricia Marx's "Him, Her, Him Again, the End of Him": "You know what I think it really was? He was a narcissist. I love narcissists - even more than they love themselves. You don't have to buoy them up. They are their own razzle-dazzle show and you are the blessed, favored with a front-row seat"

Hah.

She is so me. Look a little into my romantic history (include flings, married men, taken men, and Lee's Palace dance-floor one-shot make-outs) and what do you find? Narcissists. Even the current *crush* - though, lately, I hate that word - is one, I think. When I finish the book, I will tell you if the protagonist has a happy ending.