The Man of My Dreams

The man of my dreams, the one I promised to love and cherish til death do us part is pushing his luck.  He is frustrated, irritable, and downright difficult to live with.  This is not a new phenomenon, and I should have been suspicious from the start fifteen years ago when he insisted, “he wasn’t happy”.  I wouldn’t listen; I thought it was a passing phase and I could change him, make him be thankful for what he had, live with the imperfections and maybe, just maybe, enjoy the time he invested in the relationship.

But no, he was on a mission, a quest to find the absolute mate, the perfect sleeping companion, the pillow of his dreams.  This has been an undertaking like no other, one that has embattled the soul and challenged the psyche.  Sleep has been lost, strategic battle plans have been laid out, and still the satisfaction he so wishes has eluded him.

We have lain on department store floors with the intended, mocked sleeping habits with the focus of his latest desire and still nothing.  I have welcomed one after the other into the house and accepted them into my life, covered them in the finest cotton and silk, puffed and fluffed them, made them into the most desirable they could be and there hasn’t yet been that enduring connection he so yearns for.

There was one time I saw the glimmer of hope.  The lights were dimmed, the mood was just right, gratification and contentment engulfed his body as his head nestled into the lap of just the perfect combination of softness and firmness.  He was the happiest I had ever seen him.  The morning after was the best until the realization hit that this was a hotel pillow.  It couldn’t be his, this one simple gratification that was out of his reach.  I must admit, there was a moment of insanity when I thought I would go to any length to get it for him.  If this is all it took for the pleasure of my husband to be satisfied it should be his.  But even then, if it could be his, would he truly be blissful long term – was it worth the risk?

I have been counseled by friends, commiserated with allies, and find that this may be something he will never find happiness with no matter how long he searches.  I have tried to help.  I have tried to entice him with what I think is good for him to no avail.   This is a rather delicate situation he must truly work out himself if he is to find true ecstasy and a long-term relationship. 

In the mean time, I have a selection of pillows that the “Princess and the Pea” would find most comforting.  Pillow fights in our house take on a whole new meaning.  Forts my son has built are the envy of the modern world.  Hours of entertainment have ensued that you can probably only imagine.  And there is always hope that my man will find that ever- elusive love he can cuddle up to and call his own.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life. Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-