I might be able to have a good relationship with you if you worked in a different industry. If you drove a different car.
I feel that the true joy of loving another is just feeling completely moved by them. Compelled to be in the same space as they are and not necessarily know why. To follow that compelling feeling and discover them. Joyously discover their past, their hopes, all the stories that makes them who they are. To dive into discovery. To learn more and more while loving. It is like being submerged and dancing under water. Moving and feeling. Love is alive. Love that makes you throw away the list you always kept of what you'd want in a lover. Rip it to shreds because the list is pointless now, having felt true love.
Love should whisper and pull at us like the aroma coming from the bakery two blocks over. Send you floating in the direction of your lover, hovering, basking in the deliciousness of your lover's essence.
I had a list a few years ago. A wish list of qualities I would like to have in a lover. Someone who plays music. Someone who works with his hands. Someone who is a father. Someone who is a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. Much to my delight, I met someone who had every single quality on that list. It was in defining a type and meeting someone who fits perfectly into it that I discovered the wrongness in this approach. Through that relationship, and attaining everything I wanted in a lover, I found that I'd left the most important thing off the list. Someone who has reverence for life; through the good times and the bad. Someone passionately appreciative of the opportunity to live. This item never made the list. This, the most important thing, I learned by being with someone who lacked it. It blared at me, that item that never made it onto the list. It mocked my list. It laughed at me for not knowing my own priorities.
I learned so much from throwing away that list.
I have learned that my beloved can take any form. It excites me to have no idea what the eyes will look like that I will find a home in. The arms I will fold myself into. To not know what will inspire me about them. To not know what I will deeply stir within them. To open them, like a gift, every day discovering something new inside. To feel pulling and stirring. A call that is obvious to me and natural. All the discovery because they weren't customized by me. My beloved will come to me perfectly whole. Perfectly themselves and I will adore and learn. We both will adore and learn together. Travel companions on the journey of living. Adventurers. Explorers. Imperfect, and in perfect harmony with one another.
I want there to be a love revolution and I want to be on the front lines with my heart in my hand, unafraid. I want to fight for the humanness to be put back into loving. For types to go away. For us all to discover bliss in unexpected places and beauty in unexpected people. I want to love my lover deeply with such a fire in my eyes that my beloved feels like nobody has ever existed like them before in many lifetimes. I want my lover to love me so genuinely that all my quirks become precious little examples of why they love me so deeply. And I never want to define how they arrive. I never want to decide how they should show up. I don't want to write out a life and stick a human into it, directing all the scenes myself and finding the right actor for the role. I want my lover and I to co-author what our lives look like. As partners, architect our dreams. With crayons and paint. And with pastels that I can blend with my finger lending parts of the story to fade and come back vibrant, or turn into gradient with other hues. I do like to blend. Maybe my lover likes pen. Adding structure and boundaries to my whimsey. Or perhaps my lover likes watercolor, blending like I do. Whatever they are bringing... it will be so much more magical than a picture created only by me.
I want collaboration to leap off the pages of our life's story. Create a universe together.
I suppose that's my type.