Franken-bride

Looks have never been the main factor in me finding someone attractive. I struggle to judge if someone is good looking until I have a chance to talk with them. If I find them intelligent, funny, or kind, then it’s like a magic trick. Only then, will I notice their beauty. I am not saying this to sound deep or to avoid being misogynistic. I don’t pretend I am not shallow, or a bit of a pig. I can hurt someone just as much as they have hurt me.

I wish that weren’t true, but it is. So, to start with the shallow part, and show you I am not the person I wish I were, here are some attributes I tend to look for before I know a person:

Someone who is smaller than me is a big plus. Either in height or weight is good, so long as I feel like I can man-handle them. I am not a tall person. I have broad shoulders and a lifetime of abuse that makes me feel safer, when I can smother someone, and feels fantastic when I choose to use that for bear hugs, and cosying up or protecting them, instead. Like I said, I am not exactly a good person.

Red hair, hippy clothes and autumn hues are nice too.

Now, to think about my ex’s…

Most of my memories about major ex’s ebb and flow and don’t really take root. There are only a few thoughts that have truly cemented themselves in my mind. I would draw from these solid thoughts, to create the franken-bride.

I hate using labels, but they are better than using names for this, so…

Ex A: Her sharp wit, and goofy sense of humour. I never had to explain when I was joking to her. We had a thousand inside jokes, recurring jokes could laugh our way through holidays, awkward family dinners and even our breakup.

Ex B: She feigned timidity to make others feel comfortable. Only once to her own detriment. she put people at ease. When we met, I was boisterous, loud, and a much simpler mind. She used her intellect, and emotional intelligence to manipulate people, but not for bad, for the good of others. She brought the best out of a lot of scared people and built them up. She built me up too.

I betrayed that and hurt her. I sabotaged it because I didn’t think I deserved her, and I learned that I would never do that again, to someone so kind. This is a lesson that I wish I had learned without hurting her, but I will never do it again, to another person.

Ex C: She was passionate and full of ambition. If she saw something she wanted, she went hell for leather towards it. She built her own career, a brand, and an idea from nothing. Constant criticism and setbacks never slowed her down. She rolled with the punches and continued her pursuit. She was also passionate. The sex was intense. That is what I would take from her, for this strange experimental, and imaginary bride.

So, picture a mousy, red head. she curls into a burnt-orange cardigan, quietly giggling to herself, from a sofa somewhere off at the back of the crowd. She hides behind a book, but secretly watches the event, she helped organise. She smiles and her eyes swell as she see’s the people she believed in succeed. She would lock eyes with me, and I would be paralysed by the kind and fierce look.

Eventually, when my nerves would settle, I would leave. I am not a good guy. I certainly would not be good enough for her. I was fortunate to have experienced these things before. This perfect person deserves better than me.