The Perfect Mate

NOTE: this was written for a long ago contest. I'm not actively pursuing. Life lived independently is just fine with me.

The Perfect Mate

         It is easy to imagine the perfect male. He would be average -- not too tall, not too short. Therefore he would probably not play basketball or be a jockey at the races. My perfect man would not be Einstein. I would not want to spend my time using the dictionary each time he speaks.. Yet, I could not tolerate a stupid man. He must possess enough common sense to be a reasonable sort of fellow. And when I ask him a question about something, he should be capable of speaking with a greater abundance of language than, "Uh, I don't know."

         He would not need to be a Robin Williams, standing up to do a comedy routine at each social occasion; I would not feel comfortable with a man who forgets that there are places and times for a little seriousness. But my perfect mate would not be a dullard with zero wit or a man who never smiled. That would not interest me at all.

         My future beau would have to be a kindly man, a gentleman -- well-mannered and thoughtful. He would show his love for me through listening eyes and ears and an earnest manner. He would not be afraid to show he cared. And, I would reward him with the same behavior. Lewd or crude males need not apply for the position.

         My man would have to be my soulmate. Although I would accept his deviations from my ideal -- perhaps he might not value my love of horses or of cats, and I suppose he might even be a carnivore, but on many things we would need to have the same visions. We would discuss life and love and sprinkle in some depth. Part of being my soulmate would be the sharing of music. If his choice were Country music, I suppose I could play my classical through earphones, if he would do the same; but how much nicer if we could both talk Puccini and Paganini and sit side-by-side at concerts.

         The man of my dreams would not be a perfectionist. He would accept my imperfections. He would like neatness but not be consumed by it. He would not decorate the house with dirty underwear or shoes that smelled like dead fish. Yet, if I left an occasional sweatshirt on the sofa, he would not become enraged.

         He would be an honest man, one who believed that morals belonged inside a person, and that rules were not a contest to see how much he could get away with. He would need to be self-actualized, investing himself with learning and thought and encouraging me to do the same.

         Financially, he would be dependable. His money would be his, and mine would belong to me, yet the sharing would be equitable. He would treat for a movie, and I would pay for dinner. We would not argue over finances. Our priorities would be in the same ballpark, and he would be as eager to avoid credit card debt as I. He would not be a miser, or one who tosses his money here and there carelessly.

         A sense of humor, fairness, gentleness, and courtesy would be inherent in the man of my dreams. Would I care for other details? I suppose, since I am dreaming, I must as well continue. It would be nice if my dream man smelled of vanilla and spices -- so maybe, he would be a baker. Yet, if he smelled of something else, as long as he was clean, I would not object.

         I suppose, I would prefer my ideal mate to be involved in academics since that is the world I know and understand, but if he were a plumber or an auto mechanic, it would not matter as long as he was content in his work and proud of what he did. I should not like to be married to a complaining man or a bitter one.

         In appearance, I would never care if his nose were too long, his feet too big, or if he were clumsy or ugly as a duckling. As long as he had a twinkle in his eye, as long as he loved me and was a good man, what else would really matter?



Applications for the above named position can be found in the portfolio of Shaara.

Just kidding. See note at the top.


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