A few weeks ago, my sister and I went to see Macbeth. It was rather odd because my sister and I don't really do things with each other. I'm very... guarded around my family, whereas with anyone else I'm at least marginally comfortable with I'll tell them practically anything about myself. I don't really know them, and I don't really think they know me. I guess it's just easier.
Anyway, we walking back from the play and for some reason my sister said that I'm one of the most superificial people she knows. I was rather indignant. She said I have "impossible standards", wanting someone who's pretty and has a good personality. Of course, what person doesn't? Not to mention that, from what I've gathered, my definition of "pretty" is a fair bit below the "norm." For me, someone's personality has a very significant effect on the way I perceive them, and thus see their physical form.
But lately I've begun to doubt this. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe my standards are too high. I've consoled myself by saying that I haven't met anyone with the right personality, but honestly does such a thing exist? I've thought about what I'd want, and, as egotistical as it sounds, I sort of want a female clone of myself.
I guess that's to be expected, since I'm pretty much the person I want to be, so my "ideal" is around myself. I could tolerate neglible deviations, such as taste in music, hobbies, political/spiritual views (as long as she didn't think I was going to Hell). But I sort of want a... complement. Someone who not only goes along with my errant madness, but adds to it and builds upon it in a way that makes us both laugh. Someone who's not concerned with who's doing whom how often, unless one of the parties involved wants/needs to talk about it. Someone who doesn't judge other people as long as they don't harm others. Someone passionate, but patient.
She wouldn't have to be very "feminine", as long as she didn't mind my lack of "masculinity." She wouldn't have to be very thin, as long as she wasn't noticeably obese. Height and breast size don't matter. She'd just need to have nice hair, preferably longer (although as long as it's not boy short I could probably stand it), and a pretty face. That's the worst part, the face. That's where the worst superficiality comes in. It's something that a person can't help. Something I can't define. Something one either passes or fails with no warning and no explanation other than "that's the way things are."
All and all, that seems to be where I stand. At the moment. I don't know my mind well enough to know if that's really how I feel. But it's how I think I feel. Is it impossible? No. Improbable? It seems like it. And I guess, at this point, most people would lower their standards. Most people would "make do." But I don't want to make do. I don't need to make do. I can go my entire life not dating once and still be happy. I could be happier, I could be more adequately "fulfilled", but I can do with solitude. So I keep my unrealistic, superifical standards, knowing that even if I found someone to meet them, I would self-destruct the realtionship in due time.
What's a poor, egotistical jerk to do?
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