Men imagine the perfect relationship as a beautiful and a resilient car. That everyone admires when you stop at the lights. That you have nothing to improve on.
But there’s no such thing as an ideal car, and women and cars are very much alike: unless you look after them…, they give up on you…
Women imagine the ideal relationship mostly through negation.
They do NOT want to experience things they already have… which were bad.
It’s like the ten commandments:
He shall not drink…
He shall not look for any other…
I shall not feel hurt again…
The ones as well as the others wish for some sort of magic remote control for their relationship: one that would rewind it and make it better… or bring it up anew, because it’s been so good…
That would key up the volume of orgasm.
That would pump up the volume of the pectorals… and other volumes, too, until they’re just right.
Men would generally turn it a bit lower.
When she’s in a quarrelling mood. Or even on mute.
The thing is they don’t leave it on hold…
But no. Can’t be.
In a perfect relationship, there’s an ongoing interest, because the discreet charm of uncertainty is still there… neither are you quite at ease to let the erotic panther go out without you… nor does she sing: “Oh, not my baby”… a bit of jealousy is of the essence…
In a perfect relationship, communication doesn’t go gently, as if it were a peaceful weather forecast… it’s rather like a radio drama meant for the neighbours…
In a perfect relationship, she stays neither behind… nor before. A subdued man already belongs to the past, even when he’s not realized it yet.
It’s a funny thing that until you’re thirty… whenever you are in a perfect relationship, it doesn’t quite seem to you that way…
You see one-minute quarrels bigger than a week’s worth of happiness.
You see his wearisome passions… he sees your friends as equally tiresome…
You see a couple of flaws and ignore a hundred qualities…
You see most clearly what it is should be different about her… but only after she’s left do you realize there were some things to change about yourself, too.
Then you wonder how empty your hand can feel without hers.
And you start searching.
That men’s casting in which you’d almost cry out loud: “Neeeext!”
That moment of glad grace… when we boast about how many of them we’ve had…
A sour search from its very start.
A perfect relationship is not something you find. It’s something you have to build up.
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