Wishing. (The last one I had.)

All I ever asked for [sitting in a darkened car alone on a night nearing Christmas 2012, dreading – yet, again – being the only single adult family member, the only divorced person, the only single Mama – and crying like I have never cried before] was this:

Whoever is listening, and I’ve been told it’s you, grandfather, and a few pertinent, loving and guiding others, please send me someone who loves me exactly as I am, not as they wish or tell me to be. Please send me an imperfect man who I can, and will, love exactly as you give him. He need not be handsome or wealthy or clever, just good and honest and loving, and above all, kind – and that he finds me really neat and fun to be with. I haven’t asked for much in this life and I try to be a good person. So, a good, quirky, imperfect, loving partner would be really nice. Thank you.

Two months later, an old schoolmate and I started talking via social media and, at the time, I remembered him but to no great degree or attraction.   Six weeks later, he Amtrak’d up to NY for a weekend visit.  Sending him south when it was over, I liked him – but it was totally unrealistic to think a man 400 miles away could be my boyfriend, and that he’d wait while I sorted out single-parenting my daughter, at the time, a high school freshman.

However.  After four years long-distance, I moved to where he is.  We are not perfect, but we are perfect for each other and this thing we create together.

 

Ask for what is perfect for YOU.

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