to-the-woman-of-my-dreams-lets-dream-together-eve-riser-robertsDream woman. Does she even exist? An optimist will argue that she actually does exist in real life. A pessimist will give me verse and chapter about how a dream woman, or true love for that matter, is but a bucket-load cockamamie. Sitting on the third side of the coin will be the realist, holding forth that a dream lady is actually made, not found. The jury, which includes yours truly, is still out on whom among the three is right.

No matter where you stand, I believe most people have a check-list, even if subconscious, of their preferred mate. It might be a dark-skinned complexion, sinewy abs, great cooking skills, a comedian’s humour, a melodious singing voice… The list goes on and on.

I used to belong to the minority school of thought, a faction of people who never have any set of preferences in their potential mate. Somebody would ask me what I looked for in a girl, and I’d reply honestly that I had no type as far as this dating business went. And indeed for me, everything went. The girls I’ve dated are legion. Their looks are as unalike as chalk and cheese, they come from different backgrounds and they all exhibit a diverse array of personalities. You can’t tie down Jowal to a specific ‘type’.

But then one day, while cheating on the manhood fraternity by reading a sissy book by Steve Harvey, I came across a passage that inadvertently revealed to me what the apotheosis of a woman should be like. I tweaked the paragraph from Act like a Lady, Think like a Man, and here’s my customised version; the qualities I’d like my woman to have:

“I want a woman who will walk on water and through a mountain for me, no matter how I’ve acted out, no matter what crazy thing I’ve done, no matter the time or demand. If I am her man, she will talk to me until there just aren’t any more words left to say, encourage me when I’m at rock bottom and think there just isn’t any way out, hold me in her arms when I’m sick, and laugh with me when I’m up. And if I’m her man and that woman loves me—I mean really loves me?—she will shine me up when I’m dusty, encourage me when I’m down, defend me even when she’s not so sure I were right, and hang on my every word, even when I’m not saying anything worth listening to. And no matter what I do, no matter how many times her friends say I’m no good, no matter how many times I slam the door on the relationship, she will give me her very best and then some, and keep right on trying to win over my heart, even when I act like everything she’s done to convince me she’s The One just isn’t good enough.”

Is that too much to ask? I’m I too ambitious?

Lukorito Jones

When I'm not busy chasing around stories for my quasi-journalism career, you'll find me dabbling in fiction and perfecting my deer-dancing and goat-screaming skills.


  1. what a post!

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