My perfect man would be my Prince Charming. He would whisk me away from this place. He would take me far, far away to a place where the people don’t say “yous guys” and there are no Mighty Tacos.
He would be tall, very tall, but not so tall as to make me feel like a midget, but tall enough so that I felt somewhat short next to him. With this height would come a feeling of security for me, which is a necessity.
I will not love this man at first sight, as that can fade just as quickly, but rather I will fall in love with him over a period of time.
When this man proposes, we will not look for rings together, but he will pick it out by himself, and he will know that I want a platinum ring with a not-so-huge diamond in a plain setting. And the actual proposal will be a surprise to me. We will not date for years (read: 2-3+) so that I know it is coming sooner or later, but rather it will completely catch me off guard, and I will love it.
This man will embody everything that is me and everything that isn’t me, all at the same time. He will be both my good and bad sides, and he will be both good and evil at the same time. He will be all of this because I feel that Love is like White Light (and he will understand this theory). White Light is the presence of all color, so is Love.
This man will smile at me often and just his eyes on me will put butterflies in my stomach. He will make me feel beautiful with a look.
He will be able to read into my eyes. He will know by looking into them exactly what I am thinking because he will know that I relay everything through my eyes.
He will know not just the side of me that I show him, but all of the sides of me. He will know all of me at once.
He will understand how I have to make lists and plans and have the illusion of organization, even though it never works out. And he will understand that I am ok with that.
This man will not laugh at me when I cry for no reason. He will find it sweet and thoughtful and refreshing. He will wipe, scratch that, KISS away my tears, and that alone will make them stop.
He will love that I sleep in his t-shirt and boxers and he will want me to borrow his sweatshirts. Not only because he loves how I look in them, but also because he loves the way my scent stays on them after I give them back.
We will make love often. We will have sex not just in the bedroom, but on the floor, in the kitchen, in the yard and anywhere else we feel like it, even when we get to be “too old” for that sort of thing.
He will be faithful to me. Not because he feels he has to be, but because there is no one else on Earth he could ever want to be with.
He will understand that I sometimes get jealous even when I have no reason to.
He will be smart, smart enough to explain things to me when I don’t understand, but not so smart that he is annoyed at having to do so.
He will not smoke.
He enjoys that I tell him anything and everything, even when it doesn’t always make sense or seem to be relevant. And he doesn’t mind so much that I have a bad habit of interrupting when I get excited about something.
He thinks it is great that I want to be an at-home mom and doesn’t make me feel guilty for wanting it so badly.
He loves that I need to curl up next to him at night, in the crook of his arm, just to fall asleep.
These are the things that my perfect man should have or be. I know this is a lot to ask, so yes, I suppose I am extremely picky, but these are the things I am looking for in that one person who I think could make me happy forever. He may not have all of them, but he will have most of them, and it will be good.
i have all of these mirrors
no two the same reflection
all a different angle
view
distortion
i am all of these
yet none all at once
a funhouse in my soul
and i search for the one
that captures me wholly
And you revel in your psychosis
How dare you
And you sample concepts like hors d'euvres
And you eat their questions for dessert
Is it just me or is it hot in here
And you're like a 90's kennedy
And you're really a million years old
You can't fool me
They'll throw opinions like rocks in riots
And they'll stumble around like hypocrites
Is it just me or is it dark in here?
Well you may never be or have a husband you may never have or hold a child
You will learn to lose everything we are temporary arrangements
And you're like a 90's noah
And they laughed at you as you packed all of your things
And they wonder why you're frustrated
And they wonder why you're so angry
And is it just me or are you fed up?
And may god bless you in your travels in your conquests and queries