Thursday, February 25, 2010

I examined my own heart, and there you were. Never, I fear, to be removed…

When my friends ask me to describe what I want in a partner, my response is usually, “I don’t know.” It’s a simple enough question – I suppose I should have a simple answer – but I don’t. When I attempt to throw out a few descriptive phrases – financially capable, wants family, able to fix things – my words seem to land in the air with dull, petty thumps. The man of my dreams can fix things? Ugh. I wouldn’t date me.

The truth is, when it comes to love, I’m a romantic. I believe that my perfect mate is out there and that finding him will feel like coming home to myself. Our energies will align in an effortless, sparkling way, and we will laugh and eat and be gorgeous together.

But when my friends bring up the topic, they don’t want to hear my mushy ramblings. Especially my male friends. They’re asking because they’re thinking of setting me up with their co-worker/friend/enemy, or they’re trying to figure out why I’m still single, or they’re just making conversation until the movie starts. Sometimes I fear that revealing my inner thoughts doesn’t do anything but paint me as an overly sentimental dreamer with no grip on reality.

So I try to remain vague and breezy about relationships, with others and with myself. I am open to infinite possibilities in my future, but describing them in words seem so…not enough. So I leave them unsaid.

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