Confessions of a masculine heart
It is only obvious on a clear day. But I forgot that what I need from a woman is not what I often think I need: praises, admirations, such things that all men seem wanting of.
I need a woman who in spite of her lack of praise, could look me in the eyes and tell me the deepest truths about myself that she sees and I don't.
I need a woman who in spite of her blatant disapproval of my certain mannerisms, could still hope for the nobler things she knows I am capable of but never demonstrate.
I need a woman who in spite of her deep love for me, does not show it in a subordinate way, as if she's delighting in Michangelo or mesmerized by Shakespeare.
I need a woman who in spite of the world around her, finds joy in little things like children and the sunset.
I need a woman who could do all these as effortlessly and carelessly as stretching her own bones on a lazy afternoon. I need an equal on my best days, a superior the rest of the days.
I need a woman who got lost in the making. And I end up needing God.