You know that list you have with all the things a man should be or have in order to get with you? The one you’ve been cultivating since middle school? The one that gets lighter by about three or four items each year?
Yeah… ball that shit up and throw it in the garbage.
Lists are for Santa Claus and Steven Spielberg films. It’s too bad you can’t marry your list, because you’ll never find a man you really like who crosses off all items. “But my list isn’t long,” you say. “I just want a man who’s cute and/or financially strong and/or has a house and/or is funny and witty and sensitive but not a punk and/or can defend me in a fight and/or wants marriage and kids and/or shares my religious and political beliefs and (no ‘or’) loves me for me, imperfections and all."
Repeat: You'll never find a man you really like who crosses off all items.
FYI, men keep lists too. Lists of women who keep lists. They circulate their lists among each other so that every man knows: This woman is not to be taken seriously.