If my dog were green

Melody is... incredible.

She is far prettier than even the best of her online pictures showed. She just radiates sweet elegance, gentle poise. She and I think in parallel so much it's almost disturbing. We talked for hours last night at dinner, until the waiters started hovering in that sort of "would you two get out of here so we can close this section" mode, about everything. her house, my house, her cats, my cats. Depression. Marriage. Divorce. Good and bad relationships. Families. Places.

She wants to go to Paris.

Not necessarily immediately.

I have not felt so alive in many, many years. I can't even remember. She's smart, attractive, talented, wise.

She felt a need to warn me about her bad sides... poutiness, things like that. I am unafraid. Better to be with a woman who reacts badly than one who reacts not at all.

Don't look for any juicy details, because there are none. We gave each other a hug, we didn't really kiss, we promised to do it all again soon.

She has raised the bar for the entire rest of the world. I know now -- with certainty -- that women like her both exist and are extremely rare.

And extremely worthwhile.