It’s not for everyone, but I find celibacy and I get along just fine. I choose celibacy (or have had it chosen for me) because I believe normal relationships are not for me. I am not a touch-o-phobe, I give tons of hugs–I like tactile contact, but I don’t see myself connecting physically in that way to another person. Casual, meaningless contact is just not for me.

I won’t lie. I have the normal thoughts women have. But the right person just hasn’t come along. Every person I have been infatuated with has rejected or politely brushed me off–or turned out to be gay. Sadly, I’m not lying or exaggerating. Really, it’s only people with borderline personality disorders (but I believe they faked their interest to make themselves feel valued.) and paranoid schizophrenics that show me the love.

So either God’s trying to give me a sign, or Mr. Right hasn’t come around yet. I will grant that I’m not really searching for aforementioned Mr. Right, but I content myself with the motto: What will be, will be. I know no matter how much I whine or lose weight or try to change myself, (I love my personality as is, if others don’t….well, they can leave it.) it all boils down to meeting the right people at the right time. Despite my celibacy, I am open to the idea of a romantic relationship but …my luck is rather horrible. I keep soldiering on, but keep getting shot down.

I think I’m aiming too high. I won’t settle for Joe Schmoe down the street. My ideal man has to move my heart and brain. He’s got to challenge me mentally. I prefer someone I can debate with. I want someone with the heart and courage of a lion but with the gentleness of a lamb. I want someone unafraid to dream, but who has a foot firmly planted in reality. I want someone who is not afraid to tell me that I’m being unreasonable, who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m wrong. (Which isn’t often, btw. ) I want someone who I can “pounce” on, without worrying about being rejected. I want to share stories and tall tales and fears at night. I want someone able to “listen” past all my verbal stumblings and hear a person with wit and intelligence.

I want someone I can fight past my insecurities for. I want someone I can bare my soul to.

I’ll find him. One of these years.

Probably when I’m eighty.

And he’s forty.