Want of a man

Don’t think of it as having high standards. But I have ideas on what I want in a partner.

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For a man, I want him to be tall. I want a man who glances down at me and sees someone who is worthy of receiving love. When he peers into my hazel eyes, he sees a woman who will stay by his side, no matter the toils and issues. He looks down, and he sees a woman who will never stray, never tries and make him feel worthless, and loves him for his being.

For a man, I want him to have a job. But I want him to have a job he adores. Because if you do something you love, you never work a day in your life. I want him to work and come home, tired but loved as much as he loves his work. I want him to talk about his job, and while I may not understand a single damn word, I will listen.

For a man, I want someone who understands. He will see me having a manic episode, watching me fritz about with unknown energy, and he knows I cannot control it. He sees me in a manic episode and stays supportive. And he will help me burn the energy off without me trying to harm myself. I want him to see my depression take a mental toll on me, and give me comfort, even knowing I want no one touching me in these episodes.

For a man, I want him to listen. I want him to listen to me rant about issues that I feel are important to me. I want him to listen when I say nothing, but speak with actions, like baking and stress-creating. I want him to listen as I cry over unbridled emotions, or over random things I see in life. I want him to listen as I jabber away about something that caught my attention, smiling as he tries to keep up.

For a man, I don't mind if he smokes. I don't mind if he drinks. But I want a man to know I don’t do any of that. I want him to know that I will accept him for his habits. Because those don’t change who he is. It doesn't change who I fell in love with. If he plays games, I just want him to look my way. I may not understand the games, but I hope he doesn’t mind if I just watch, dumbfounded by the techniques. I just want to be close.

For a man, I want him to be kind. I want him to see animals and find joy and caring as he sees them. If he is a hunter, I want him to be a good shot, so the prey doesn't perish in fear. I want him to take gentle steps in the woods, to not disturb the fauna that resides there. I want him to hold me, as i cry from stress, giving me the comfort I fought against, but desperately desire.

For a man, i want him to be patient. I want him to be patient as i do my chores around the house, even if they take me longer than they should. I want him to be patient as i will get distracted and pander off. I want him to know that I like to take my time if there are certain things that look appealing. I don’t mean to lose focus, but I don’t want him to feel like he must corral me back in line.

For a man, I want him to be understanding and level-headed. I’m already a hothead, but I hope he understands that it is difficult to control my temper. And if he does lose his temper, I just don't want to be the one who is the focal point. I don’t want him to raise his hand at me. I’ve dealt with that enough.

For a man, I want him to protect me. I don’t just mean from physical assaults, but verbal too. I want him to defend me if I am being talked down to; if I am being belittled. And if I am engaged in an argument, I want him by my side.

For a man, I want him to be able to make me laugh. I want him to see me trying to sneak in a stray cat and laugh, as he was possibly going to do the same thing. I want him to tell jokes that do not put down those of other ethnicities, or gender, but still make me laugh as my humor can also be warped. I want him to see me down and try to make me laugh at something stupid or crazy he had done. I want him to tell me stories that he heard or made up just so he can see me smile.

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But if I must be vain, I want my man to be tall, tall enough that I can rest my head just by his heart. I want him to be tall enough that when I look at him, I see the shadows of want in his eyes. I want him tall enough that he intimidates those who make me uneasy. I want him tall so I can feel like he is my oak, my port in hell to keep me safe.

If I must be vain, I want him to be strong. Not a muscular stature like Captain America or even Thor, but true, functional muscle. I want him to have muscles that show he can lift heavy weights and not injure himself. I want him to be strong, so I know I can have someone defend me if it comes to it. Muscles that show he can hold his own if it comes down to it.

If I must be vain, I want him to have facial hair. Not just a pencil-thin mustache, or a thumb-size goatee, but I want him to have hair. I want him to have facial hair that enhances his appeal. I want him to have facial hair that is kept moderately groomed. I want him to have the type of facial hair that gives him the illusion of being someone wild, someone who can be compared to a lion or wolf.

If I must be vain, I want him to have talents. I want him to sing. I don’t care if it’s a deep, deep baritone, but I want to hear him sing. I want him to sing to me and I get raptured by the beauty of the vocals. I want him to sing and ask me for a duet. I want him to sing just so he can, in peace and joy.

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And if I must describe sex, I want him to be dominant, I want him to lavish me, enthrall me on the waves of lust, and love. I want him to dominate, in a way that portrays that he is mine. All mine. And I am his. I want him to prowl as if sex was a prize, a treasure. I want him to treat me as if I am a goddess, a nymph who desires power. I want him to show me his prowess, his power, the very fire of his want for me so burn so passionately that we together leave nothing but ashes and burnt out bliss.

If I must describe sex, I also want him to be kind. I want him to feel like i am something to cherish. I want him to caress me like im made of fresh silk, to make me feel like I deserve to own the moon or bask in the sunlight on a throne. I want him to be gentle, as this time is something to cherish. I want him to please me, as i please him, in ways that the air is our mantra, in ways that water and sweat slip from heated skin as rejuvenating rain.

If I must describe sex, i want him to understand my kinks. I want him to look at my selfish perversions and find something equal to enjoy. I want him to embrace my hedonistic desires, and we shared passion and sin as one. I want him to be enticed by the depravity and add in his own shades of the carnal hunger that is growing between us.

And even with all that sex, I want him to at least understand that intimacy is a hit or miss with me. He understands that I will on random days be repulsed by the simple gesture as a kiss. He understands that I won’t smile in pictures, or that I won’t post pictures of us on any social media.

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If our bonds end with marriage, he understands I will have lots of family come and celebrate. If we marry, he knows I won't be a raging bridezilla. If we marry, he will look at me, in a patchwork wedding dress, and see me smile, lips together, as I greet him with a fake flower bouquet. And if we marry, we dance to simple songs, songs that we loved, songs that we know our now joined families love.

But if our bonds end with separation, we leave each other not as bitter exes, but those who leave with grace. He knows we finally had our journey together, and it’s time to take separate paths. We leave each other on a good note, and hopefully, if ever, we can look back at our times as a pair, and remember the kookiness, the love, the fire we burned for each other.

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These might seem like high expectations for a partner. But is it so bad to want something that is just right for you?