Is it just all about hope?

I exchanged a couple of interesting e-mails yesterday with a gentleman on Match. He's educated, communicative, clearly a smart, analytical man. Smart is one of my favorite attributes.

That made me start thinking about the number of Mr. Rights that exist in the world for each woman who wants one. We've established here that the number is greater than one.

Each time a relationship disintegrates, I think that's it for me, I'm done, there is no man to bring happiness into the rest of my life. And then I get lonely (or lonelier). And I think, "maybe I'll try it one more time". I've said any number of times that I'm not going back to online dating, but I'm certainly not meeting Mr. Right anywhere else in my life. (It reminds me of living in Washington. The men I sang with — at least the tenors and, now that I think of it, several of the basses — were gay; the men who walked into Nordstrom when I was playing the piano were presumed to be married or gay — they sure weren't hittin' on me!) So I keep wandering back onto Match.com, hoping against hope that I can find one more man to carry me through the balance of my life. (And "carry me through" has a specific meaning here, about accompaniment and companionship, not about lifting my physical body! But you knew that, right?)

My new acquaintance suggests that men hope, too, but weigh the effort it takes to meet someone against the likelihood of finding a compatible woman and decide they'll just hunker down with the remote rather than exerting the effort.

When I see some new possibility, I start to imagine what He might be like, what a relationship with Him might be like. But then I grab ahold of my racing hope and settle back down. What I've got is good. It may not be a known quantity but, for right now, it's good.

What's the joke about not looking for Mr. Right but looking for Mr. Right Now?