My Dream Woman
It's far too soon after my divorce for me to be dating. I know, because I tried it. So I'm not trying it for a while.
But one thing the process of being newly single at age 36 and subsequently trying my hand at not being single has taught me is that my list of "requirements" isn't actually very long at all. And it's far from the norm of what I understand many other mens' requirements list to be.
Want to know about my dream woman?
Maybe long, maybe short. Maybe mid-length. She might be blonde, or brunette, or redhead, or maybe even purple or blue or orange or bright white or even shaved. Hair color and style doesn't really register with me as something that makes one "attractive" per se. It's about how she wears it. Does she rock the hell out of her hairstyle? Kick ass. Rock on, girl. That's pretty much all I care about with regards to hair: that whatever it is she wears upon her head, she owns it.
So deep, I can't bother noticing what color they are because I'm so lost in them. Open to everything. Soft and welcoming, not looking FOR things, but AT them.
Smile lines are sexy as hell. End of story. Long face, short face, round face, narrow face, strong chin, small chin, big cheeks, tiny cheeks... Just give me smile lines.
Wrapped around mine, under a blanket tent fashioned from the stood-up mattresses and furniture in a posh hotel room in an exotic city, wearing footed pajamas watching a marathon of Monty Python's Flying Circus, or The Wire, or Cowboy Bebop, or something I've never seen before that she's absolutely crazy about.
Career / Employment / What-have-you:
I couldn't possibly care less what she does all day long for money, so long as she's fulfilled and happy. And if she's not, but realizes she could be, and the job is financing what she needs to do to get there, all the better.
Hopefully it's not over, and she's reading something new every day about something she's interested in. Degree is irrelevant. Ideally, I get emails every day with some Wikipedia or blog article about something fascinating that was discovered while falling into the vortex of research for research's sake.
Music / Books / TV / Movies:
Sure, lots of each. The more varied and nuanced the better, but whatever she likes, she likes. I'm excited to share the things I like with someone, and excited to have new stuff shared with me. If I like it, awesome! If I don't, well, I just learned a new way not to entertain myself. But so long as there's sharing involved, I'm up for any of it. I'm going to share with her Melt Banana, The Melvins, Adagio, Erik B. and Rakim, Thievery Corporation, Neil Gaiman, Howard Zinn, William Poundstone, Akira, The Dark Knight Returns, Fight Club, Revolver, The Wire... She'll likely hate half of it, not understand some of it, and like some of it. I want that experience myself. Liking the same things isn't nearly as important as sharing the things you like.
I want someone who will let me cheer loudly for every accomplishment they achieve, and who will do the same for me. Even better if we do them together. But that's not necessary. As long as she knows, whatever the hell she decides to do, I'm going to be in her corner with signs and pom pons yelling like a banshee, because I've spent a life knowing what it's like not having that and how powerful it is. I hope she's excited in her own way for the crap that I do.
What's next. Whatever that is.
It's going to be a long time before I'm ready for this dream lady, because where I am right now in my life and my experience and my healing makes me exactly the wrong person for her. She can be all of these things for me, but right now, I can't be the best me for her. I've learned this the hard way. I'm not ready.
I'm not exactly sure when I will be. But when I am, I know that I get to be as picky as I want to be, and I don't have to settle. Not ever. And so, when it's time, I know what I'm going to be looking for -- my perfect dream woman. But I have to be ready to return the favor.
In the words of one of my best friends in the world Liz, I'm living through my montage right now. All the work you see someone doing in a movie when they're training for the big event, or prepping for the upcoming test, or learning karate so they can beat up the bully... All those cutscenes that represent vast amounts of time doing rudimentary stuff that serves as the building blocks for a foundation for something larger... I've got months, if not years, of that to live through.
But time doesn't get to advance for me the way it does in movies. Being the impatient person I am, I wanted it to, and I let a few weeks or months of work stand in as representative placeholders for the actual work that takes actual time to do. So, my day to day life is spent focusing on me right now.
But one day, I'll get to use my Crane Kick of love after she sweeps the leg and I'll get the trophy, the respect of my peers, and the girl.
Just you watch.