Jane has accepted the proposition that she will never marry.

It's not sad, not something she wants to be pitied over. For a while, it upset her, made her feel lonely and distressed and completely alone in the world.

But then she realized that she's not alone, that she never has to be alone. She has her family, her partner, her friends. Someday, she'd like to adopt a child. Maybe more than one.

Just because she doesn't have a man doesn't mean she has to be alone.

She makes plans in her head for how she will be a successful single parent. She thinks it out, tries to see it from every angle. Her life will have to change a lot to accommodate such a shift, but someday, she'll be ready and she'll make those changes.

And she's ok with being alone, romantically.

She has accepted it. Almost in the way people learn to accept the death of a loved one. She went through all the typical stages of mourning.

Denial: for a while, she kept trying to convince herself that someday, someday, she'd find the right man. A man who would love her for her, would support her and cherish her and stand up to her and want the same things out of life that she wants. This couldn't be it. There had to be someone perfect. She just wasn't looking in the right places.

Anger: then she was upset. She was furious at the universe, at karma, at fate. She worked hard and tried to be a good person and do right in the world- she deserved to be happy, right? So why wasn't the perfect man finding her? Why didn't a white knight show up like she'd been promised by years of fairy tales and pop culture?

Bargaining: alright, well maybe she would lower her standards. Just a little. Just enough to deepen the pool of prospective candidates a bit. And if the universe would help her out, she'd be willing to settle for someone who was almost what she'd always dreamt of. She could strike a deal. She could learn to live with a little less.

Depression: so she was going to be alone forever. She'd never have what she always wanted; no children's laughter and love. No dogs and a yard. No teaching her kids to play ball and how to stick up for themselves. No passing love on to the next generation.

And finally…

Acceptance: she would get what she wanted. She would take what she deserved from life. No man? No problem. She would work hard, save her money, and someday she would adopt. She'd cut back her hours and adopt a child who needed love and support. She'd have her family to help her and her friends to encourage her and she'd make the life she always wanted happen.

And then she met Maura.

And suddenly, it didn't seem so cut and dry.

Maura made Jane want things she had long ago given up on. Maura made Jane want a partner, a companion, someone to share her life with from this day forward.

It was confusing as hell. Jane didn't like it one bit.

Maura was the man Jane had given up on finding. Well, except from the oh so obvious fact that Maura was not a man.

Jane was not close-minded about sexuality. She had been attracted to women in the past. Generally, she preferred men. They were easier in many ways.

But Maura.

Maura was… perfect.

She was gorgeous and intelligent and hilarious and sensual and caring and considerate and loving and nurturing and… perfect.

Jane wasn't exactly sure when it happened but at some point, the mental family portrait she had of her and her daughter suddenly included Maura.

Maura who would teach her child grace and poise and delicacy that Jane couldn't begin to fathom. Maura who would help with homework and science fair and music lessons. Maura who would strive to make sure her child never felt alone, never felt the way Maura did when she was little.

Jane wanted that for her daughter.

And at some point, she started thinking of the imaginary child as their daughter.

A daughter with Maura would be…

Perfect.

Jane has always seen the world as a chaotic, messy, dangerous place. Before Maura came into her life, Jane wouldn't have described anything as perfect.

But when it comes to Maura, the word is accurate.

She says it a lot.

Maura's eyes are perfect.

Maura's legs are perfect.

Maura's laugh is perfect.

Maura's coffee is perfect.

Maura's voice is perfect.

Perfect.

And now Jane realizes the vision she had of her future is not so perfect.

Not unless Maura is in it.