The dream of a man

Since I can remember, especially starting at age 10, I have dreamed of a man. Early on and through my years of closeted turmoil, this man was a rebel with the courage to break through barriers. When I came out, he was the hero with whom I'll have an intense connection that can bridge my many worlds. Now that I am grown, he is the individual who will bring out the best in me and together, we will show each other love.

This picture does well at capturing the dream. He is strong to overcome barriers, noble to be himself no matter the surroundings and beautiful for the inner fire that comes through in his face. Such is a man to love, a man I strive to be worthy of.

Often I go through great fear that such men are lost to me, or worse, that they do not exist. Am I in love with Prince Charming and not a man? Do my background, family, issues and weaknesses notch me too low to merit such a man? Am I in the wrong city, wrong career, wrong life? These sorts of thoughts are not terribly original I grant you, but they are still mine.

Yet, I press on in faith, a deep and abiding faith, that such a man is very real. I press on while the world would seek to dilute me and my own patterns hamper my steps. I press on for there is nothing stronger in this world, nor more beautiful, than the promise of love. I love you my family, I love you my friends and I love you, my future husband.