This is a continuation of yesterday’s post, A ‘love’ Story, Part 1: Love with a Capital L. I hope you’ll read that first.
My List of Fatal Flaws
After one disappointing marriage and a truly disastrous second big Love affair, both of which came out of the romantic’s desire to be in Love, I’m sure, I stopped looking. I was so scarred, I sort of shut down to the whole idea of Love, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Sure, I met a few guys in the years to come, but I soon discovered they all suffered from at least one of what I had come to call “My List of Fatal Flaws,” conditions to be avoided at all cost.
He is married. We all know that should be a fatal flaw to a single woman, but it’s amazing how many think they can overcome it.
He is gay. In my experience, this is a wonderful attribute in a male friend, but not so good for romance.
He is much older than I. This “flaw,” as well as the next one, works fine for some women, but as a mother of three young kids, I knew it wasn’t for me.
He is much younger than I. See the previous flaw.
He lives 2500 miles away. I tried to accept this one, but soon discovered it was the kiss of death for even the most torrid relationship.
He lives with his mother. See the previous flaw.
He really wants to get married and have children, his own children, the fruit of his loins. Well, perhaps other women with three children would be open to this guy, but I knew I wasn’t among them. Besides, the whole “fruit of my loins” thing kind of turned me off, you know?
He is short. I come from a really tall family. My dad was 6’2″, my mom 5’8′, brother 6’5” (before he started losing the war with gravity). I am a relatively tall too. (Well, I used to be, before I too started losing the aforementioned war.) And I frequently wore 3″ heels. I wasn’t really comfortable being Mutt in a Mutt-and-Jeff couple. Yeah, I know. You can call me shallow. You wouldn’t be the first.
So this was my list. And it didn’t even take into consideration of all the obvious fatal flaws like a criminal record, a drug habit, a little too much fondness for the devil rum, and so forth. And believe me; I’d met my share of those too.
– to be continued –
Tune in Sunday. Same time, same channel.