I never want to be in a relationship that has me as a partner.

What the cock about that??

Many years ago I made a list of the qualities I would want in a good man. It had about 30 things on it, and it has an honest and practical list of things that went beyond the first year of dating. Some things that you don't always think about in the beginning, but upon looking back, may have been a sign that I missed. I can't find the list now- although I know it's here somewhere. I remember a few things.

• Sense of humor
• Kind
• Healthy relationship with his mother
• Solid friendships
• Can speak positively about his past relationships
• Moderately educated
• Willing to slow dance with me
• Handy around the house
• Patient
• Doesn't hate my friends
• Gets along with my family
  
• Compliments me
  
• Good listener
• Not condescending
• Humble
  
• Fair
• Reasonable life expectations
  

To name a few. Notice I said HEALTHY relationship with his mother. Sometimes a little bit of conflict is ok.

I remember after I put this 30 some odd point list together, I went back and put all the men I've ever been involved with up to the list. Just to see how well I have gone after the things that are really important to me. Strangely, nobody really hit 75%- most were closer to 50%. It's no wonder I am always so restless and eventually grow to hate the men that I spend the most time with. I really DON'T believe that this perfect guy is out there for me. I have some friends who are married to thier cosmic equal. I mean, these couples are so perfectly matched there is almost a glow around them. It's amazing. Everything seems effortless, even though I have witnessed the efforts. Everything appears smooth, even though everyone has rough patches.

NONE of my relationships have been effortless. None of them have been smooth. And perhaps maybe that is more about ME than it is about the men I involve myself with. Perhaps the common denominator I am missing is the fact that I am so fucked in the head I don't know a good relationship from a hole in my head. Don't get all "Oh Julie don't be hard on yourself." I KNOW me, and I am not always a picnic. I think I took some perfectly good men and fucked them up. Just ask Paul.

I'm a very logical girl, and I own my fucked-up-edness. Do I not believe that the right man is out there because he's truly NOT? Or am I SO twisted in my own man-haterish that I will never recognize or find him even if he came to my house delivering a pizza? And if I do, will I sabotage and twist him until he is so equally fucked up that I can blame him for everything- and therefore be correct in my believe that the right man is NOT out there.

I'm right, men suck and I can continue my life as a bitter queen.