I want to date a man that’s employed.
And not just at some job that gives him some paycheck for some amount that pays some bills he has to meet every month. I want him to love what he does, considering he’ll spend far more time at the office than he will with me for the next 40 years. All of the fancy titles and all of the fancy things can’t compare to being paid to do what you love every single day and feeling that sense of satisfaction that your purpose in life is being met. I want a guy who has a passion outside of me, something that fulfills him that he achieves and aims for, something that drives him to be a better man, a better person. I want a guy with a salary that allows him to travel and explore, believe and endure, follow his dreams and his whims, wherever they go, and hopefully, with me in tow.
I want to date a man that’s interested in interesting things.
I don’t have to like what he likes or do what he does but I sure do want to learn why it makes him happy. He doesn’t have to read what I want to read or laugh at the same point in the same movie that we both love. No, I don’t want a man that’s just like me, or just like anyone. I want someone who is his own person, with his own thoughts and his own certain set of certain somethings that make him not only intriguing, but incredible. I don’t want to be the center of his world or the only thing he thinks of, I just want him to give me a piece of his mind, along with most of his heart.
I want to date a man that wants to crawl into bed with me after a very, very long day in the city.
On those dreary, cold and grueling days where stress was high and traffic was thick, when subways didn’t arrive on time or come at all, when rain came without a weatherman to blame. I want a man who wants my key on his keychain and who gives me one in return, a guy that doesn’t need to announce his arrival because he’s always welcome in my apartment on that block on the Upper West Side. I want to meet a man who wants strings attached, who wants to learn all of the little things and the big things that make me into the me that’s me. I want to date a man who doesn’t have time for the games or the interest to play in between the lines and instead, wants a place to rest. A place to bury roots and watch them grow. With someone he loves. With the someone that’s me.
I want to date a man that’s easy to be around.
In this big city with all of it’s frustrations and fascinations, there has to be a man that doesn’t show up drunk on the first date. Or one that cries. Or one that doesn’t mysteriously disappear after the third date. Or the fifth. A guy that doesn’t place himself before everyone, ensuring his needs are met before he considers anyone. I want to date a man who opens doors in stores, who gives up his seat on the subway, who says his p’s and q’s and can hold a conversation with my dad over beer and fishing poles. I want a guy that wants to hit the East Village for drinks and dancing on Saturday, with sloppy kissing in between spots, and wake up on Sunday to read The Times and drink coffee in Central Park. I want an easy, loving feeling that’s so damn hard to find in this anything-but-easy city.
I want to date a man… who wants to date me.
It’s the simplest truth that I often forget: what I’m most looking for is a little thing called chemistry. I like him, he likes me, we meet, we kiss, we date – and that’s it. That’s all it really takes – one moment, one (or three) drinks, one secluded embrace under a street lamp in the West Village, one tiny little brush of hands, one shared smile and all of that hard work, all of those annoying, delirious experiences, seem distant and unimportant. While so many other things do matter and should matter when finding your match, the most important qualification is finding someone who you can be on the same page with, time and time again, no matter how many twists and turns your life takes.
It’s not too much to ask to date a man you love that loves you just as much back. It’s asking too little to settle for anything less than that man.
This Valentine’s Day, write a self-love letter to yourself and it’ll be published (anonymous or not) on Confessions of a Love Addict! And you enter yourself to win a prize! Learn more here. Submit here.
Pingback: How to Stop Looking | Confessions of a Love Addict
Pingback: He Loves You | Confessions of a Love Addict
Pingback: My Word of the Year for 2015 Is… (Hint: It’s Not ‘Love’) |