Monday, January 18, 2010
Five years ago, when hope sprang eternal, and I was nursing a wounded heart. I was encouraged to do some heart searching. Look at love. And I did.
Thirty nine. That's the number of characteristics of my "perfect partner". It included: He is bilingual. He smells great. He has a full range of emotions and manages them. He has work and hobbies he loves. Thirty nine things. Not requirements, but descriptions for who he is if he really exists.
It was just an exercise, a bit of emotional stretching, engaging my desires and my imagination. No man would have these thirty nine points, but it did help me get clear about what I want, what my ideal is. It was hope.
Fast forward to present day. I've given up on romance, commitment, men. They are friend, GOOD friends, but there is no passion, and there hasn't been for years. I've realized the truth. While I may be fun and interesting and intelligent, and charming, what I am is not what men want. In reality, I'm an eccentric spinster.
"Your life is wonderful accept for a partner and love". It comes from out of nowhere. Normally I wouldn't pay a bit of attention to that kind of statement except that this time it came from a a man who is like a father to me. The pure and simple love from this kind man washed over me and opened my heart, and I felt the pain of my aloneness. Taking a page from his book, I sat in his chair,my fingertips rubbing a circle just above my heart, I whisper "I need a miracle." Every day I whisper to the universe. I write a contract for love and go out of my way to open to "love in all its forms." Friendships are built and renewed, children are enjoyed and appreciated, and I am happy again in this area.
He looked at my profile, and I liked his picture. Just as I'd been doing, I sent him a note complimenting his photo and wishing him well in his search. I'm not looking for a European businessman. That'd be foolish since I'm moving to Asia. But new and interesting friends are always nice. With that in mind (HE is not looking for an American, after all), we begin to chat. None of the pretensions and forced similarity that can be common in dating. We don't see each other in that wa... BAM!!!
"This is different." And I am rubbing circles just above my heart again.
"What shall I give you for Christmas," he asks me, and that song prances around in my head "All I Want for Christmas is You." I tell him, and we laugh, and then I take a breath and say, "I want to meet you. There is nothing else I really want." And he takes a breath. And 32 days later I am on a plane, to Rome, to meet my European.
What has happened, might you wonder... Nothing... and Everything. We still talk on the phone every day, laughing and flirting and speaking of mundane things. I look for jobs in Europe, jobs with a lot of vacation, and jobs I can do online. I have my miracle, for I am in love.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I don't, but I do know that I am going to walk in this relationship fearlessly, and I'm not going to quibble about the details of love that G*d has given me. I thought that the details would be occupation, height, age, political leanings.... Turns out, I meant geography.
And that list of 39? He meets 38 of them. The last one, time will tell.
May we all have miracles. If you have one, please share it.