Once upon a time, I have pictured myself growing old with another soul; hands not empty, head on another’s shoulder watching the sunset by the porch; quiet but joyful heart. Outside of that image though, I’ve always thought that anyone who comes my way could fit in easily in my life. So long as the person is kind and intelligent enough, will not cheat and have a big capacity to tolerate pms, the partnership could work. The first three would ensure mutual respect and friendship. The last would be for his survival. But I want the both of us to be sane, active and happy in that relationship that even if the “growing old image” would not come for us, we would be good.
Thoughts on glorious, long, warm showers, on lavander bubbles, with some upbeat music could just make one smile and hope (and dance). With that mood, the hopeless romantic me, slowly created a picture of that one who shall touch my soul again.
1. He adores me even when sometimes he wishes he doesn’t and
2. He would have an understanding that “now” counts. And he will not leave me wanting for time, attention, affection; paranoid that he will regret losing me when the time for goodbye comes because he was too reserved to show me my worth. It doesn’t have to be grand moments. Sitting quietly under a tree
3. He would want to share his world to me and be eager to experience mine just as well. We will not expect to be completely immersed with each other’s lives but there will be fascination in our likeness and difference.
4. He would know how and when to talk to me. And I may just believe him.
5. He would be confident that I would understand and accept him too when he’s the one being weird. And if I can’t, he would trust that there is nothing I want more than to comprehend where he is coming from and he will be spared of self-pity and discouragement. He will just be patient until the time that I’d know how to love him the way he wants me too.
A list. Just a list.