Last night, I dreamed I had a boyfriend. It felt wonderful.
No, there wasn’t any sex. There was just the pure pleasure of someone’s company and love. I don’t remember much of the dream, except for one thing: the moment we first held each other.
I’ve always told myself I don’t want a boyfriend. I’m surrounded by shallow men who prefer beauty to quality. Relationships are stressful. Why would I want that kind of burden on me? I’m moody enough already.
But my subconscious mind seems to be telling me I’m fooling myself. I am lonely. There’s a void another woman could never fill. Sister-to-sister relationships are only so fulfilling, and women need men (and vice versa) for balance.
Maybe I have no balance in my life.
I’m certainly not desperate for love. Not just any man will do. Aren’t my standards reasonable? What’s wrong with wanting a man who loves me for my mind instead of my body, who loves me even when I’m miserable, and who doesn’t want to please me but just be with me? I know Prince Charming doesn’t exist, but I won’t settle for a pauper.
Where is my Adam? Will he ever find me? Should I be looking for him?
Maybe I’ll just keep waiting…