The legend of the Soul Mate
|D. Barbara McWhite grew up in York County, S.C., and lives in Orange Park, Fla., with her husband and cat. Her column is published here each Tuesday. Opinions expressed are solely her own.|
A young friend of mine is in love. She is, to put it mildly, packaged and sold on her young man, telling me breathlessly that he is “just everything.” He is, she proclaims, her soul mate.
On one hand, seeing my friend overcome with happiness and joy is very sweet. They are in the early stages of what is likely a serious relationship that they seem to believe will likely lead to marriage.
On the other hand, it is preposterous to hear her yawn on and on about happily ever afters. To hear her gush, extolling the merits of her fine fellow and the fact that he alone embodies all of Gods finest virtues, is like hearing someone trying to describe their recent encounter with Sasquatch.
Having lived with one such “perfect fellow” for more than a few years, I have learned the truth: Prince Charming does not exist. And as she proclaims how perfectly perfect her perfect guy is, somewhere inside of me a sarcastic voice longs to reply, “It must seem so, dear.”
I want to tell her that her “perfect” young man, that she longs to be with “ALL” the time, will one day clip his toe-nails and leave the clippings in the carpet. He will pee on the toilet seat and she will sit in it. He will chew his food too loudly and will eat the last of her favorite ice cream. He will tell her half-truths and refuse to apologize. Her “everything” man will disappoint her and make her cry.
I want to tell her that love is a trick that blinds you to your mate’s blemishes and warts before the wedding and then restores your sight with extreme acuity after the honeymoon.
I want to shake her love-soaked ass and yell, “Wake up, my friend. Sasquatch doesn’t exist. In the end you will find he is a big hairy phony -- a fake. He is a human being all dressed up to fool you into believing he is something unique and special when in fact he is just like all the rest.”
I want to tell her the joke I read the other day, called “Five secrets to a perfect relationship.”
#1 - It is important to have a man who helps around the house, knows how to cook and clean and has a job.
#2 - It is important to have a man who can make you laugh.
#3 - It is important to have a man you can trust and who only wants you.
#4 - It is important to have a man who is good in bed and enjoys being with you.
#5 - It is absolutely vital that these four men don’t know each other.”
But I realize the futility in trying to awaken my friend from her happy stupor. She is off balance. Her speech pattern is dizzy. She oozes love from her pores. She is intoxicated. She is a sloppy stinkin’ drunk on an all-night bender.
So I listen and watch her with that quizzical look you might give your drunk Uncle Harold, while I lovingly tolerate her ridiculous blather.
Hearing her prattle with the innocent blush of new love makes me smile. And somewhere inside I remember …
That a long time ago I was Cinderella and my prince found me.
And once upon a time I believed he hung the moon.
I remember when the sound of his voice made my heart beat faster.
And watching her happiness, I once again begin to buy into the possibilities …
I have searched for Sasquatch for a lot of years. And every time I catch sight of him, he ducks behind a tree. I haven’t found a lot of evidence to support the notion that he really exists, yet here is someone else proclaiming to have found him. So maybe…
Every now and then my man kisses me awake. Maybe he is Prince Charming.
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