My Ideal Mate

Ever since I was in high school, I envisioned my ideal man to be someone who is intelligent, charming, speaks well and plays the saxophone. Being romantic was also a requirement.

I met that man. When we first met, I couldn't take my eyes off him because he was cute but still looked really masculine - he personified the word "macho". We got to talk and in a few minutes he got me laughing with his wit and he made me ponder on his ideas. Two hours later, we were still talking. But since it was getting dark and we were getting hungry, we decided to grab a bite. Unfortunately (or fortunately, as it would turn out), the nearest fast food place (we were still in college so that was what we can afford) was full so we just decided to take out the food. On a whim, we decided to have a picnic in the middle of the field. While I got the picnic mat from my locker (it was actually a banner from a seminar that I organized for my college org), he went to his car to get some stuff. In just a few minutes, he came back with a black case.

On that night, on a picnic in the middle of a field, under the moon and the stars, he serenaded me with his sax.

But there were no sparks.

There were still no sparks the day after when he called me up first thing in the morning. Still nothing when we met again for lunch. We lost touch after a few weeks but I didn't feel any loss.

And so I've met my ideal man but now, as I write, I couldn't even remember his name!

And then there was Rey. He was intelligent, spoke well but he didn't know the difference between a cello and an oboe. He smiled only to the people he knew and liked. His idea of courting me was getting drunk in a nipa hut in Antipolo that served "Cole's Low" (which was why I never knew that he was courting me until he actually told me).

But there was something in him that made me feel warm. He made me feel so secure that I only allowed myself to get drunk when he was around.

Eleven years later, Rey has learned to smile at people he knew but didn't like. He still couldn't tell a cello from an oboe and his idea of a love letter is a hotel stationery with the words, "Leave Tip." But he still makes me feel so secure, warm and truly loved. He doesn't fit my requirements for an ideal mate but I have no doubt that he's the one for me. And after meeting him, I wouldn't settle for any other man.