It?s 6am, I roll over and try to squint through my champagne-tinted lashes to push the snooze button ? hoping that the next 10 minutes will give me the energy I need. You see, he?s in my bed again and its time to get him to leave ? this time it 'will' be for good.

We've talked it over a million times. 'Yes I love you, but...' and 'yes, I love spending time with you but?' ? inevitably there is always a but.

In the end we simply settle for bed, and of course the familiar spoon that's as comforting as homemade chicken soup.

Afterwards, I always awake to reality of another day and the fact that yip ? he's just not the one.

The fairytale monster

So I ask myself ? why's it so hard to let go? Even when I know it's wrong, I know that he's merely 'enjoying my company' and that when we go out to dinner with all our friends and I think things will improve ? he?s simply otherwise engaged?

Now, I am not saying he is the only one to blame. You see, deep down I probably know he?s not Mr Right, but my illogical and unmale-like characteristics (I think they're called emotions) as well as the hundred-odd fairytale movies I have watched, have convinced me that, although we are horribly wrong for each other, there's always hope.

The definition of hope then becomes somewhat tainted. Hope (n) a feeling of desire and expectation for something to happen ? should never be extended to ? hopeless (n) the longing for something that is actually void of all hope already. Something that many of us fail to understand at all costs (and this is true for some men too I suspect).

Clinging to the dream

Maybe it's the recent string of dead-end relationships ? the ones that have prompted me never to change my single status on Facebook (quite frankly ? what?s the point) ? that have left me hoping to god that this one works out.

So why do we as women clutch at this hopeless dream? Besides the fact that we are by nature 'clingons' ? clinging to the fantasy like a child to that peice of candy that's bound break some teeth ? it's the innate human need to be loved, and the fact that although we will never admit it, most of us want to settle down.

The whole irony of most of our single lives is that ultimately we want to find 'the one'. And, although many of us do in all honesty like being single, and are hell of a lot better at it than relationships, at the end of the day in our minds there is only one ending ? the happy ever after...

Most of us want the husband, kids, the house, the 9 to 5... even if we see ourselves as two different species ? the I want to get marrieds' and the I don't want to get marrieds' (which actually means I am in the wrong relationship, or I am just not ready yet, or otherwise he's not).

In actual fact, although we seem worlds apart, the two of us are very much the same, barring the fact that the former probably likes to spend more nights on the couch ? and the one big difference ? acceptance.

Accepting the inevitable

Why you may ask? Well, to be comfortable in uttering the words that I as an independent type I cringe when I hear ? 'all I want is to get married' ? is the key that not only opens up a world of possiblities, but closes the door on those hopeless ones.

This confession is something we find very, very difficult to do as women ? say what we mean.

Acceptance is actually the first step to moving closer to the fairytale, which I still fully believe in (although it's somewhat of an unedited version).

So it's time for me to accept the inevitable and shut the door ? but I mean really shut the door ? no I promise this time I really mean it...