(By Anonymous Woman) We dance, waltzing, in the moonlight, candles our only light, and become entranced in each other and the music styling of Frank Sinatra. He wears a suit everywhere. He opens the door for every lady he sees. He carries all heavy boxes. He gives up every seat for the elderly. He has reached great success. Is always five to ten minutes early. On weekends, he reads and spends time taking care of others. This is the dream that I have in my head. This is the man I dream of marrying someday.

I dream of a man who most likely does not exist. I dream more of a man who may have existed in the 1930s or 1940s. Although, logically, this type of man may also have insisted that I stay at home barefoot and pregnant. In my romantic head, the lack of logic is irrelevant. The dream persists. The ideal of who I want continues. And if I continue, I may never dance with the real possibilities.

I have been warned repeatedly in the past that if I continue my unrealistic and ridiculously picky ways, I may end up alone. I have dated men in the past who in some ways fit my criteria. But, there was always something. Something missing. Not enough commitment. Not enough respect for me. Not responsible enough. Something! After dating each one, my standards only increased. The only standard that I have loosened is physical – I can now accept someone shorter than 6 foot and who doesn’t have a completely developed six pack. Great progress, right? [Read more...]