Everything you can imagine is real.
–Pablo Picasso
I wish I could believe that. Then, I would look for love. Long ago, when I was young, I believed I’d find love. It would be embodied in a man who possessed the qualities of a prince. Love would be a man who would hold me and give me freedom. A man who could talk about the world, the universe. A kind man with an innate sense of justice. Together, we’d build a life together.
I spent years searching until I decided loneliness was worse than not having love. So, many more years, I lived with a man who worked to provide a secure foundation, a home to give shelter and money to buy whatever we needed. I accepted his shortcomings, his failures. But, his inability to see me for anything other that a minority shareholder in the life we built hurt. We wrangled over it. Somehow, he never understood what I was saying no matter how many times and in so many different ways I tried to explain that his attitude was a source of pain for me.
I’ve become adept at making my life work for me. Doesn’t everyone settle for something in life?