I am lucky. I have a wife that I love and adore. All indications are that she loves me too! But, what is it about certain people that captures our affections that others don’t?
Julie is petite, dark, curly hair, blue eyes, athletic build, an a bit of a “tomboy” gait.
Intellectually, she is brilliant. A thirst for knowledge, logical and analytical to the point that I’m surprised NASA isn’t beating down our door.
Emotionally, she fluctuates from on top of the world to a blubbering mess, at times. (She’s a woman. No surprise, there, right?)
Romantically, she is affectionate, attentive and appreciative. A voracious lover and a compassionate partner.
But, are all these things together that make up my perfect match?
I’ve dated women in the past who were brilliant. Women who had a similar “look”. Women who mimicked her passion. Women who were just as attentive. But, none of them made me feel the way I do about Julie.
For years I thought it was simply that tugging feeling of “what if”. The desire for closure that made me idealize her in my mind, but I’ve discovered that’s not the case.
I always thought that I’d put her on a pedestal that she would come tumbling down from when I got to know the true person she had become. I was wrong.
She is a mere mortal. Her feet are funny looking, her hair is so naturally curly that it can truly be a nightmare to behold, she shuts down when she gets frustrated or angry and she can lash out using language that would make a sailor blush.
She wants every wall in our house decorated from floor to ceiling and there are times when she can lose it just because I’ve put a pot or pan in the wrong place.
So, it’s not that she’s perfect.
In the past I’ve dated women who were petite, feminine, pretty. The ideal of beauty that society tells us we should want. Some were intelligent and witty. Some were emotionally strong and independent. None of them could blow my doors off, so to speak, but each of them had qualities that would make them a great catch.
Then there were women who were intellectually of emotionally extraordinary. Able to win any battle of wits and do it with ease. Physically, they were appealing, at least to me, but again..I wasn’t blown away.
Then there’s sex..I’ve been with women who I couldn’t keep my hands off of. I’m certain we set records in certain areas of stamina, frequency or just plain ole imagination. On the flip side, I’ve had partners that sex was more of an obligation. It was uneventful and a chore.
Scientists claim that we tend to be physically attracted to those who share our own physical traits. For me that would be a high forehead, dopey, Irish nose, fair skin, light hair blue eyes. Athletic build, broad shoulders, strong upper body.
Ok. Julie? She is petite but athletic. She has an average forehead, typical European features. Thin nose, prominent chin, stocky build, dark hair… Well, that doesn’t jive.
Maybe it’s pheromones? The perfume/cologne industry has been taking in billions on the promise that they can make you so sexy that your significant other won’t be able to stand them self!
It only makes sense, then, that perhaps we give off a scent that attracts certain folks in a way that others can’t.
Well, how do I explain that the majority of my time, while courting Julie, was spent with us barely seeing each other and almost never in the path of the others smell?
Obviously, I don’t have the answer. If I did, I wouldn’t be blogging my own theories and contradictions. Instead I’d have a link you could click that would charge you an ungodly amount of money to learn the secret. Note..no link.
So what is it that makes us choose one person over another? That makes us decide that a lifetime in one person’s company is more important to us than another’s?
How many times have you walked down the street and seen two people, obviously in love, and thought, “they don’t seem like they’d be a good couple!”?
We’ve all done it.
For me? I decided a long time ago what my “ideal” woman was.
Someone who loved me enough to call me on my bullshit but not so headstrong that every day had to be a battle.
I’ve found all these qualities, existing at the same time, in other women.
So why did I not feel the same type of undying, unconditional love that I feel for Julie?
The heart is a fickle thing. It brings us to a place that nothing makes sense, yet everything is exactly as it should be.
It draws on our need for companionship and affection and then tells us how those things should feel when it’s right.
I may never know what it is about Julie that has caused me to love her for as long as I have. I may never discover if the two of us have that “soul mate” connection that people dream of.
All I know is that it took me a very long time of pain and disappointment to find my way back to her.
Because of that, I will rub her funky looking feet when she’s had a long day in ill fitting heels, I’ll kiss the top of her head on Sunday morning when her hair is standing up in all different directions and I’ll wrap my arms around her when she’s throwing a tantrum about flooring designs or cancelled trips home.
Who knows. Maybe it’s nothing more than the fact that the two of us have gone through enough bad to know what is and isn’t worth fighting about.