"A complete package?" LMAO!

Recently I've exchanged a few emails with a guy I "met" on an online dating site. We've been exchanging the usual information, with some of the normal "blanks" left out for now.

No "less liberal than thou" disclosure. No sports teams confessions. No bondage fetish.

Eh, no more embroidery for now. Sometimes I go a little over the top.

Today this gentleman told me that I sounded like (because of a strange quirk we share), "a complete package."

I haven't written him back yet. He sounds like a genuine person, and so he deserves an honest response, doesn't he? Those of you who know me well know that whether he deserves it or not, that's what he's going to get.

When I write to him, I'll tell him that, franchment, I don't believe in "complete packages." I don't believe in Cupid, god of love, either.

Gentle readers, let me count my atheistic ways.

No one can meet all of another person's needs. That's why, even middle school, boys and girls move from one guy or girl to another. Hopefully, by the time we reach middle age, we've figured out how to adapt and widen our circle.

Go back to my post on the need for transcendence for some clues as to why we all seem to seek the One.

Secondly, I happen to know that I'm scarred, broken and generally imperfect -- that once you get past the surface (and heck, you don't have to look that closely) I'm far from anyone's idealized female.

Third of all, I happen to appreciate imperfection -- I want to know how you've gotten those scars, and I want to hear what you learned while you were bleeding. I don't want you to just get to a good plastic surgeon. Some of the places where healing has occurred are what make us more fascinating, particularly as we age.

Finally, I know he'd find out, quite soon, that I'm still in search of growth, learning and change -- it happens, whether we seek it out or we don't.

As I've said, recently, I'm not ready for a "relationship." I don't even know what that means. But I do know that communication begins with honesty, and humor, and a decorous vulnerability.

I guess this is as good a place to start as any.

I'll turn it over to this anime version of Sara Evan's "Saints and Angels" a song that speaks to this kind of brokenness.