What can I tolerate, not what do I love, right?

I think about the next relationship alot. I often imagine it never coming, and have become accepting of that possiblity. Then there is the chance that the next guy I meet, will be the "one," whatever that means. The one I adore, who adores me. The one I can talk with, plan the future with and enjoy everyday, mundane life adventures with.

Then the phone doesn't ring, the calendar is open, and the chance meeting doesn't even have a chance. I sit typing my thoughts out to anyone who will read them.

A women needs a relationship other then her friends, her daughter and her mother. A woman needs a man friend who is also a great lover. He must be both. Friend and lover . I would love that person. If he can be both, then we can have a relationship right? Thats what I am thinking. Friend-meaning he'll discuss topics with me, have an opinion in which he can explain, yet can comprehend that not everyone believes how he does. A great lover, who is patient, passiontate, and who works so teasingly slow. If I have all of that, then I can tolerate the other things. That is what I tell myself.

I can tolerate that he doesn't have a mechanical mind. That he can't schedule or plan a weekend trip by himself, for us and remember we have kids to think of, that need clothes packed, medicine schedules wrote out, and dogs that need to be tended too. He'll be able to announce, he booked us a great weekend to rest and relax., but of course, not have a clue that so many things need to be planned and organized out for his little weekend roundavous.

He'll have no concept of anyone but himself of that weekend trip...by going into the gas station and getting himself a soda, not even thinking that I may be thirsty as well. I can tolerate that because that night, I know he will make me thirsty again, by fucking me for hours and causing me to forget all about motherhood, mortgages, and lifes craziness. That is important. That is a must. The selfish attitude is not important to me. I can tolerate that. Fuck me until I forget my own name, and you can be selfish the other 20 hours of the day. Fuck me for those four, and fuck me god-damn good, and all else is tolerable.

Then there is the the slob. He is tolerable too. Because as I walk around the house, picking up his sweatshirts, and magazines, he'll follow and talk with me about my mothers anxiety issues, and actually bring up good points for me to consider. Wiping the mac nd cheese he spilled on the counter can be tolerated, because the conversation I am having with him is so enjoyable, that I am not annoyed at him for being a lazy slob who cant take 15 seconds to wipe his mess up!

If this sounds too crazy to believe, I'm sorry. I'm sitting here typing what I am truly feeling I am going to end up doing. There is no man out there, that can be a friend, a lover, pick up after himself, and clean up after himself, is there? I am beginning to believe it is what you can tolerate that will allow you to have a relationship, to have and keep someone in your life.

I know a woman who thinks she has that man. She overlooks...excuse me, tolerates his small pencil dick. There is a woman I work with, who thinks she has the greatest man ever, but she tolerates a lonely vagina. He sucks as a lover, but is so wonderful at everything else in there life. It all comes down to the idea of "what can you tolerate?"