We create lists of desired qualities that an imaginary person must have in order to complete our incompleteness. Filling the ever present but secretly hidden void in our life seems so far out of reach until this person or “the one” magically appears in our lives. We fail to realize in the midst of designing this perfect little fallacy of hope, is that most of us are actually ignoring the void in our qualities.

Self-improvement, personal fulfillment, and love of oneself have all sounded like a hippie manifesto created in cloud of pot smoke and written on patchouli scented LSD paper. In simpler words, it was something that sounded like an adult Disney fairy tale when in reality most of us are living with the belief that Disney is reality. That if we wash enough floors, and deal with enough dwarfs that one day a 6 pack packing, gun wielding, financially secure Alpha Male Prince will pay off our credit cards, gift us a shiny new beamer and want to play with our snotty nosed nieces and nephews.  He or she of course will be someone better than we could ever be, they will inherently be someone more patient, more organized, more successful and completely infatuated with how great we are aside from not being remotely as put together as the fulfilled prerequisites of said prince.

All too often we cast unrealistic expectations on others. We absolutely should not hold someone to a higher standard than ourselves but we do over and over again. This is a form of self-sabotage in its own right, not to mention the effects it has on its victims; our siblings, friends, significant others and even our own children. We believe that if we love and guide someone enough they will meet and exceed our expectations (of what we wish we could be and) of what their life should be. And in doing this, we often forget that we more than likely have a history of telling those who have pressured us to live our lives a certain way to get fucked. So while we sit back and tell people to pound sand because they’re not good enough, and live our mediocre existence ignoring the qualities we should improve on or possess, while waiting on someone who will make our lives so much more valuable, it’s about time we eat fruit from the hippie tree.  I have found myself in this exact mind fuckery of a situation and have found either I am not enough for someone or someone is not enough for me.  More than a couple times I’ve decided to examine what exactly it is that I want and after 32 years of walking my path by digging holes, throwing tantrums, making awful wrong turns and a few U-turns in succession, I think I now have somewhat of a grasp on what I want at least for the time it takes me to write this.

I don’t want perfect. I don’t want to be perfect and I don’t want it in someone else. That would take up too much of the short time we have on this planet and be entirely boring. I want to wake up with yesterday’s mascara creeping down my face, throw on a hat to meet a friend for an honest conversation and a great cup of coffee. It’s been these days that the conversations have revealed that no one has anything more figured out than anyone else. Everyone is struggling and there is beauty in being honest about that. I want honesty.

I want to discover places that have existed in the shadows of the new and trendy. I want to fall in love with the color of a mailbox on a dirt road and hidden dive bar’s cheeseburger. I want to laugh loudly first thing in the morning. I want genuine strong hugs that if had to be translated on a sticky note would read “you are beyond appreciated.”  I want to be surrounded by encouraging words. Words that say stop defeating yourself, you know you can do it.  Immersed in a community of loving hearts. Hearts that ask how are you with authentic concern and refrain from judgment because we have all been shitty or in shitty places. I want to be kissed. I want to be kissed with the intention of receiving life, as if kissing my lips were to gain the last breath of air in the universe.

I want car rides with loud music drowned out by louder off key voices singing a mash up of the words. I want classic rock, beach cruiser rides through the neighborhood, friends that gather to conquer fears and the world together. I want to run wild, sweat, dance and laugh. I want to talk about my dreams, set goals and kill them and I want you to do the same.

I want to be told that I’m beautiful for the way that I think and because my eyes are a weird blue. I want to be appreciated for what you can’t understand and for the way I have hurdled obstacles in life. I want to be told that I am needed, not out of convenience, but because I am someone who adds love and inspiration to the lives of others.

I want a walk through the door, rip off your clothes, I can survive without you but I surely don’t want to, kind of love.

I want flowers because they continue to live despite being ripped from the earth and tossed in water, and you understand that I clearly see the depth of all that. I want to be told a secret not because I am trustworthy, though I certainly am, but because I understand the importance of sharing something so personal and sacred. I want to dance barefoot in the kitchen wearing your over-sized T-shirt, singing the songs your mom sang to you as kid. I want to be grabbed from behind while chopping ingredients for your favorite chili and hear the whisper of “fuck, I love you so much.” I want to be told that my existence has rocked your world and has made you see the world and love so differently.

I want passionate eye contact, intentional hand holding, and to feel your sensitivity towards me while you caress my forehead. I want a love and bond that is impenetrable despite the wicked world around us.

I want space for me to give myself to others. People need me as much as they need you and keeping each other from giving friendships is an insult to our lives. I want to cheer you on from the sidelines because our paths are our own. I want to look out together and you see God speaking to you with an angel in the clouds and I see a miracle of another ocean sunset and appreciate both views.

I want you to want to want me but first I must want myself and you, yourself.

And I know every day isn’t a magical place but I know a little magic exists in each day. I have found that of all the things I truly desire, it is myself. I want to be the person that lives this life not merely survives it. And I will not wait for someone before I do. What I really want is me. Not a better or perfect version, I just want someone who loves like I do. I am and will continue to become the person that I love. I don’t have to wait for someone to give me flowers to feel depth or to kiss me for a taste of life. I will live my life excited knowing that I have a love that I want, I am the person I want and need. And in not wanting anything but me, if you do come along I won’t get lost in your expectations and you won’t in mine.  In all of my searches the greatest thing I have ever found was me and I refuse to lose her.