I have found the perfect man. I mean, for me. I have found the one person that, when I consider the possibility of having to pick up the phone and the person on the other line asks, “Where are you?”, doesn’t fill me with an immediate sense of annoyance or make me want to slam the phone down.
Wait. Don’t get the wrong idea with this admission. It’s not as if suddenly I’ve gone all mushy and filled with the longing to settle down, have 2 kids and a maid, a joint account and a double-storey house in the suburbs preferably somewhere that has a Giant or Tesco nearby.
I am just saying that, it was not impossible after all to find the perfect man, despite being told otherwise by many many many many people.
And yes, this find happened unaided. I wasn’t looking. The opportunity simply presented itself.
Am I going to do anything about this perfect man? Nope. Why? Because I don’t have any intention, at least at this point of time, to change the status quo – whether my own, his or anyone else’s.
I like knowing that there is a him, that mystical creature that everyone says doesn’t exist. It’s a form of validation. I like that. And that’s enough. For now.