Beacon Street, Boston, Massachusetts
55° F... 02:42 in the morning...
For the last few months, I have been trying to define the woman of my dreams. I believe that if I defined her in words, I would recognize her if she were to ever walk into my life. More importantly, I would know when a certain Ms. Only-Seems-Right happens to catch me in a vulnerable state. I have always loved women ever since I can remember. Everything about women fascinated me. That is my problem. Don't get me wrong. I've never been a womanizer (I'm somewhat shy and WAY too honest), but it seems my life pretty much revolved around women. I know what I'm admitting to probably makes me sound like some sort of overly obsessive psycho in desperate need of a good shrink, but it's the truth (not about needing a shrink). Let's just say it's a good thing I inherited shyness and good dose of self-restraint (though... alcohol does seem to diminish expression of these traits).
Enough about what's wrong with me... and back to the topic at hand. These are some of the words I would use to portray the women I find irresistible:
kind / caring
There she was... she was one of the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life. It took me all but few seconds to realize I was in love. Then she had to open her mouth and something horrid to another person. I despised her. From nothing to "love" and then to "despise" in less than a minute.
The woman of my dreams has a kind and tender heart. Altruism is not required... though it would help. I tend to derive joy from making those who I care for happy at my own expense. Some would call it altruism, but I wouldn't; it's conditional altruism at best. When I give ten, I hope for at least one back... a tithe of some sort. When time passes and what appears to be selfless acts go unappreciated or not return at all, I gradually get discouraged and eventually stop. She will need to be caring enough to show appreciation and at least display genuine willingness to sacrifice a little for me.
optimistic
I come from generations of idealists. If I were to define the underlying core of our family, it would be the pursuit of ideals. I would love to be with someone who shares my enthusiasm for ideals. Ideals are nothing without optimism; without the hope of turning ideals into reality, ideals are nothing but unrealistic theories -- pipe dreams.
One of the main reasons why my kids' mother and I fell apart was because she was a realist and a pessimist. Our interpretation of a situation we both experienced would differ to a point where I often questioned whether we were describing the same event. She had an uncanny ability point out what is wrong with any object or situation. For example, she would look at a piece of clothing and immediately spot a single loose stitch and a slight discoloration size of a pinhead. As an optimist, I accepted her as a discerning shopper with a keen eye for defects. When she got upset over a casual conversation I had with a female church member, I took it as a sign of affection; she thought the woman was trying to seduce me. I stopped speaking to any female church member unaccompanied by a husband to put her at ease.
However, there comes a time when steady flow of pessimism and negativity becomes overwhelming even for the most optimistic idealist. When I would describe ideas and hopes with great optimism, she would take it apart and show me that I was nothing but a modern day Don Quixote. After a while, I began to see how foolish I was. Who was I to think, that one day, I can convert a pessimistic realist into an hopeful idealist... When I lost my optimism, I no longer saw a future between us.
intelligent
Intelligence is huge turn on for me. To be able to carry on a conversation... to discuss an idea without having to stop to explain why my statement is a logical progression from the last... I can't even begin to explain what that would feel like (never had the pleasure). Granted that I fail to vocalize my thoughts in a perfectly coherent manner, I hope, that someday, I will be with someone who can fill in the gaps and understand me without much elaboration... or at least someone who has the patience to let me know that I am being my incoherent self, smile, and kiss me.
Example: Rachel Weisz & Lisa Loeb
When I first saw Rachel Weisz on the silver screen, I thought she was cute. Just cute. Some months later, I read somewhere that she graduated from University of Cambridge and co-founded a student drama group. Next thing I knew, I was renting couple of her movies. It's pretty much the same story with Lisa Loeb. She graduated from Brown.
Clarification: I guess the examples I gave were somewhat misleading in a way. I don't think of a college degree as the indicator for intelligence. I have known some very intelligent (and wise) individuals who never graduated from college for one reason or another. On the other hand, I have also known some people who made me wonder how they ever got through their masters program. So, I can't emphasize enough that degree is not a measurement of one's intelligence. However, having said this, with no other information available, a degree from a reputable university provides a rough range of expected intelligence.
Related Entries:
open-minded
I believe open-mindedness to be a special blend of intelligence, humility, curiosity, and tolerance. She must be intelligent enough to be humble (she knows enough to know that she doesn't know everything) and tolerant enough to appreciate the quirky differences that make us human. She has to be willing to temporarily let go of her beliefs and refrain from hastily formed judgments, and maintain curiosity for world of knowledge yet to be explored.
Off topic: I always thought a person who feels "sympathy pain" is someone with psychosomatic tendencies and an heightened level of open-mindedness; you have to be open-minded enough to immerse yourself in another person's situation to empathize... and your psychosomatic tendencies kick in to manifest the pain associated with emotion. If this topic interests you, here's a bit dry but fascinating paper on empathy: Empathy: Its ultimate and proximate bases.
artistic
Sometime ago, I met a person who did not interest me at first sight. But, as soon as I heard she was the "art director" for a company, I felt my interest level spike.
I love art not because it's pleasing to some or all of the five senses but because art is an expression of the artist's perception of that moment in time... a view into the artist's soul. Since I feel I lack the ability to express myself so beautifully, I have tremendous respect for those who can.
There's another reason why I am attracted to artistic women. I seem to associate the ability to express oneself artistically with the courage to be open with emotions. I believe that someone who is not afraid to let go of her inhibitions to express herself can be... sensual.
sensual
When I say "sensual," I don't mean nymphomaniacal. There is nothing more beautiful and titillating than subtle expressions of sensuality: intensity with shyness, graceful and flowing movements, a slight touch, soft voice... a whisper... a subdued quivering exhale... effortless yet subtle trail of innuendoes... of sensuality... I believe these subconscious self expressions to be preludes to inquisitive and inhibition-free private pleasures that help bond a lasting relationship.
imperfect / quirky
Call me crazy, but I believe she's perfect only when she is imperfect. Though I expect (and strive for) perfection from myself, knowing well I'll never get there, I think of frailties and imperfections as adorable personal traits that make me want to protect, support, and care for that person. Sometimes, perfection can be suffocating.
epilogue
Does this person exist? I believe she does. We could be taking the same route to work every morning, just missing each other by 5 minutes each day. Or she could be on the other side of the globe. I know it's VERY naive of me to still believe that I'll know from the very moment I meet her for the first time... but I do. I still do...
Even if she does exist, am I worthy of such a person? I don't think I am... but what I can offer is... small sentimental gestures, conditional altruism, and devotion... (Did I mention I've been told I'm an excellent (amateur) masseur?). She'll have to accept me the way I am... and in return I will adore her frailties and love her... with every inch of my being.
Related Entries: