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elementof_riskMy initial instinct upon reading this question was to say, "No" and leave it that. It seems like it could lessen something, somehow, or render the individual less distinct. But upon further reflection, I have to admit that while the women I have dallied with have been varied in such a way as to defy categorization except as "attractive", those that I have truly cared for, or wished to be able to have a relationship with, have tended to follow a certain mold.
In a realization that I'm sure will have you--the therapist--chortling in Freudian glee, yes, in some way or another, that mold has very much followed that of Irina Derevko who was the closest thing to a mother I have ever had.
So, my "type" as it were: Strong, mentally and physically. They know what they want, and they know how to get it for themselves. They are pro-active, taking control of their own lives and destinies, or accepting the one they have been thrust into and molding it to their own specifications. It manifests itself differently, perhaps. Ambition and dominance, sometimes. Softer--an iron hand in a kid glove, other times. They do not shy away from violence. They have something that drives them, a reason to get up in the morning--and generally this reason seems to be one of global significance. There is a greater goal, something bigger than just themselves, that surrounds and drives them. They are powerful. They are leaders, or at least capable of it if they have yet to step into that role. On a simpler level--they appreciate and understand how to use weaponry, and they are capable of grasping my world, my job, the things I do--even if they do not approve, per se. I do not have to lie to them, to make up pretty stories to protect them from the truth.
They have all had their differences, of course. They are not carbon copies of each other by any means. They have worked on opposite sides of the line, and a couple of them would be horrified to know that I see any resemblance between them and Irina. But it's there. I can see it, and seeing it, I won't deny it. I couldn't be with some shrinking wallflower I had to protect from the world and myself. I enjoy taking care of those I care for, but I need her to be able to take care of herself, as well, because I cannot always be there. I need to know she can handle my life and the danger that comes with it, that she is prepared.
It takes a special sort of woman to be able to do that, and I've never met one among the general population, truth be told. But I have been lucky to have known more than one, to have been honored to love more than one, and be loved in return. To love one, now, and be grateful for it, even if I am a bit appalled to admit to something so banal as a "type."
In a realization that I'm sure will have you--the therapist--chortling in Freudian glee, yes, in some way or another, that mold has very much followed that of Irina Derevko who was the closest thing to a mother I have ever had.
So, my "type" as it were: Strong, mentally and physically. They know what they want, and they know how to get it for themselves. They are pro-active, taking control of their own lives and destinies, or accepting the one they have been thrust into and molding it to their own specifications. It manifests itself differently, perhaps. Ambition and dominance, sometimes. Softer--an iron hand in a kid glove, other times. They do not shy away from violence. They have something that drives them, a reason to get up in the morning--and generally this reason seems to be one of global significance. There is a greater goal, something bigger than just themselves, that surrounds and drives them. They are powerful. They are leaders, or at least capable of it if they have yet to step into that role. On a simpler level--they appreciate and understand how to use weaponry, and they are capable of grasping my world, my job, the things I do--even if they do not approve, per se. I do not have to lie to them, to make up pretty stories to protect them from the truth.
They have all had their differences, of course. They are not carbon copies of each other by any means. They have worked on opposite sides of the line, and a couple of them would be horrified to know that I see any resemblance between them and Irina. But it's there. I can see it, and seeing it, I won't deny it. I couldn't be with some shrinking wallflower I had to protect from the world and myself. I enjoy taking care of those I care for, but I need her to be able to take care of herself, as well, because I cannot always be there. I need to know she can handle my life and the danger that comes with it, that she is prepared.
It takes a special sort of woman to be able to do that, and I've never met one among the general population, truth be told. But I have been lucky to have known more than one, to have been honored to love more than one, and be loved in return. To love one, now, and be grateful for it, even if I am a bit appalled to admit to something so banal as a "type."
