Inspired by CremolloQuarterPony and Cindy! As written at 1:30am. I apologize for the stream of consciousness. I will update this with a more specific list. i suppose realizing what I want is a process in itself.
I am not sure if I should write “The Man I Want” or “The Man I Want Right Now.” I always thought that they were the same—I, not one for things without lasting significance.
I stare at the porcelain horse head on my dresser and I know where this should go . . .
A man who helps me to cultivate my passions.
A man who brings out the ‘me’ I love.
However, since I love myself unconditionally and love the real parts of me- be it introspective, childlike, giddy, or depressed, perhaps it is better to define this as:
A man who cultivates those parts of me that I am neglecting.
Oh man, how am I ever going to write this list. Ok, note to self: Cultivate those parts of you that you are neglecting.
The man should therefore, see the artist in me. A man with whom I can be a writer, photographer, and adventurer.
I would love a man with whom I could ride horses.
The man should also recognize my ambition and be ambitious himself, for what sexy soul lacks ambition? Which makes me realize, I also require introspection.
A man with whom I don’t intend to work with, but as a unit, we will create something bigger than ourselves. Sharing our businesses, fueling the minds that depart each other every morning, fostering each other’s brilliance and confidence.
A man with whom I can play with, dare with, who will push my limits-on a swing or in the bedroom. Laying on a blanket in the grass as if we were children succumbed to the moment without another care.
Yet, this man has many cares.
He need not have an unblemished past. He may have a perfect family or none. Yet, he should have an understanding of himself- his fears, his inhibitions, his neuroses.
We read in bed. We cook dinner. Share wine. Champagne. We race. We fly. We grow.
I love tall, dark and handsome, but he could be blond with blue eyes and chiseled features. My physical requirement is only that my body yearns for his and that I could get lost in his eyes forever. Luckily, eyes don’t gain weight or age.
My man is honest. Able to give. Able to be classy and dirty. Handsome in a suit, and just as handsome rugged in boots. Did I say I have a thing for horses and adventure?
Passion, tears, immature, serious—nothing is off limits.
. . . . . . To be continued. There is a flying insect pursuing me hungrily and the man is not here yet to conduct his insect-swatting duties.
Oh, just one more for this evening- A man who will take care of the manly things. Pete, the cockroach and Loco the most treacherous bug I have ever known are two things my man would make sure I was without.