"Once upon a time, there was a very worthy young man. And as all worthy young men are, perhaps, this man was very conscious of his worth. He knew that he stood tall, was handsome, was built-well, had money - and although he was not conceited about it (perish the thought) he knew what a valuable commodity he was. When the time came (as time often does) for the young-man to get married, he was shown many women of all shapes and sizes. He turned them down, one after the other because he was adamant that he would not settle for anything less than his ideal. And so he searched through a mountain of women looking here, looking there, looking everywhere and rejecting all of them one-by-one. He was at the search for a long time, until suddenly he found her: his ideal. He was overjoyed, and convinced that 'this' was what his mission had been all about. She was perfect in every way, exactly what he had been searching for. He celebrated with his family, and his friends, and the next day he went to her house with a marriage-proposal. A few hours later, our worthy friend returned without the bride. Anxious friends gathered around him wanted to know what happened: was she not, as he had thought, his ideal? The worthy young man looked rather like the ground had shifted beneath his feet, but when pressed for an answer he replied: "She really was my ideal in every way. The only trouble was, I was not hers."
And so another chapter of my life can be bundled into one of dada's stories. One I hear nearly every-time a marital misadventure occurs, but not, I admit, from this unique perspective. The moral, says mommy, is what dadi keeps saying (but everyone ignores her because she keeps saying a 'lot' of things): It is always wiser to be somebody else's ideal, rather than turn him down because he is not yours. I suppose eventually stupid-girl-in-the-story will figure it out too. Or maybe not.
An-hour-or-so of mommy-time later, I still hurt, but atleast I no longer have a cold. What I 'do' have, I realize, is the current Mr Pan who may not be who I was waiting for, but who is quite prepared to be at my disposal and tell me I'm gorgeous. And since deep emotional connections just ricocheted to hit me on the head, I suppose I may as well enjoy the fact that as he dances attendance on me, he's good eye-candy.
As I said, it's really all about scotch-tape, and easy pick-me-ups, as we try figure out what happens next. But I'll keep you posted. *sigh*