Mr. Wonderful

I heard about him before I met him. He was warm, a mover and shaker, and incredibly shallow. I knew a lot of women that fell for him and soon lost themselves. Some were stuck on how he made them feel. Others did just about anything to stay with him.

He had mojo. Voodoo. That oo-wee.

I was curious, but not so much that I wanted to leave the one who had always been there for me. My boyfriend at the time was stable. Comfortable. But I wanted more than what he could offer, yet a little less than what Mr. Warm and Shallow could seduce me with.

The problem, you ask?

"Comfortable" exhausted me. He was so predictable and unchallenging. I was tired of the same ole thing. The same ole conversations, friends and mediocre dreams. I wanted to be with someone who would help me reach my potential as a writer. Mr. Warm and Shallow was an actor-writer-director-producer type. Mr. Comfortable was only known for being comfortable.

I left Mr. Comfortable in 2007 and moved in with Mr. Warm and Shallow. I gave up everything to be with him and immediately felt like I'd make a mistake. I wasn't in love. I was just uncomfortable. I hated that my childhood friends were uneasy when I talked about my new man. I hated that I gave up a great salary and loft apartment to live with him. But I believed in what Warm and Shallow could offer. Notice again that I said I wasn't in love. Not yet at least. I wasn't in love, enamored, dealing with butterflies, or even thinking about commitment with this guy. My mind sometimes wandered to other possibilities.

Ok, to be honest I had daydreams about living with Mr. Warm and Shallow's cousin -- Mr. Exciting. I would creep away for weekends with Exciting and we'd stay up all night and dance and laugh. Sometimes we'd trash Warm and Shallow behind his back, and I felt no shame.

After a year of playing with Mr. Exciting, I began to make plans to return to Mr. Comfortable. Don't be surprised--he was always waiting and he was familiar. Mr. Exciting on the other hand was fickle and very cutthroat with his business affairs. I didn't want to settle down with anyone like that. Comfortable was steady and predictable, remember?

I voiced my plans to close friends and everyone told me to stick it out with Mr. Warm and Shallow. "You made such a daring move for him!" they exclaimed. They coulnd't understand how and why I wasn't in love. With the exasperation of someone delegated to herding cats, I replied, "I tolerate Warm and Shallow's lack of discussion about international politics. I tolerate his fixation on body shapes and shoes. I long to be snowed in with Mr. Comfortable, reading the Washington Post and eating comfort food that took all day to cook!"

I missed the vacations, the shopping sprees and socializing with the friends and family who were so used to me and Comfortable being a package deal.

Then, things began to happen. I saw them unfold slowly in my favor. Doors opened. I knew that Mr. Warm and Shallow was unable to love me as I wanted to be loved, but I had given him my all. Now he seemed to reward me for my faithfulness. I bit my tongue whenever I wanted to critique him. I read books and listened to other disgruntled girlfriends who pointed out ways to make my relationship better with Mr. Warm and Shallow. I took their advice. I sucked it up, cut my emotional tie with Mr. Comfortable and stopped returning his calls.

Pretty soon, I loved to wake up to Warm and Shallow. I loved his idiosyncrasies and all the pretentious nature he desired to push onto me. Call me an idiot, but now I ignore his reputation because I loved the sunsets we share, the beach, the movies, the plays, the flip flops in December and the dreams we've achieved together. I love him...and I think Los Angeles loves me back.