“You could have caught that” I thought as I watched a middle-aged woman miss a frisbee that her friend had thrown to her. That’s me though, isn’t it? Critical, to the bitter end. Critical of myself, of others, of everything. Forever chasing a utopia that will never exist.
I’ve come to the point in my life where I am rarely satisfied, and that’s a troubling realization. My mom always preached about contentment, and how my father didn’t have it. I think I might have inherited that from him.
But what is life without goals? If we aren’t striving to get better, then what is the point of existence?
As usual, my high school biology teacher’s definition of the meaning of life comes to mind: “To reproduce and pass on your genes. That is the purpose of life. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I agree with her. It’s hard to force human life into that mold because we are self-aware, sentient beings. But it is true nonetheless.
I certainly want to pass on my genes, but I want to do so with the understanding that the other half of my offspring’s genes are good too. That requires a worthy partner. Not the easiest to find.
I’ve never been easy to please. I’ve always been picky. I have the image of the perfect partner for me in my mind.
I want to take a moment here to say that I’m heterosexual, so my perfect partner is a woman. There’s nothing wrong with that, and there’s nothing wrong with any alternative to that. This is 2016 and that’s the truth. I’m sick of hearing people get blasted for being straight and saying that’s the right way to be. That is the right way to be, for them. There’s nothing wrong with being straight, Jesus Christ. There’s also nothing wrong with being gay.
I see the “image” of my perfect woman in my mind now. I used to think that she was a brunette, but now her hair color is undefined. I guess priorities change over time. She’s short, like 5’5″ or below. She’s not overweight, but not skinny. She has a woman’s shape, a good curve.
She’s smart. I don’t want to have to explain everything.
She has a laugh that is so beautiful that it makes you want to cry because no other emotional reaction makes sense.
She wants a career, but wants me to have the primary income.
These are some of the traits of my perfect partner. These things may reveal certain things about me. Like the fact that I believe in traditional gender roles or that I was raised with and continue to support southern values. I embrace these parts of me. It’s who I am.
The problem is that I’ve yet to find this elusive woman, and I may never find her. I thought I had found her with Kayla, but there were so many things that just didn’t work. I’m sure I’ll get into those at some point. I may never find her.
If this girl does not exist, I’ll eventually have to settle. That, or be single forever and not fulfill the purpose of life.
I’m horrible at settling. I crave success. I feed off of it. And, right or wrong, I savor that moment where people look at you and wish they had what you have. I’m materialistic, and it baffles me that some people are content to live in a shack of a house and drive a 25 year old car. I guess in a way, I’m a fundamental American.
I want that dream. That white picket fence. Those 2.5 children. That golden retriever. Actually fuck that, make it a pit bull.
I’m determined to have that trophy life. I’m a headstrong man, and I won’t stop until it’s mine.