Two years ago, I had a horrible break up with a boyfriend of mine. It tore me apart for weeks. Eventually, I got over it. My best friend, Baelee, decided she never wanted to see me hurt like that ever again. In order to never have to see me hurt she made a list, like a grocery list, but the things on there can't exactly be found in the store.

This list was for my perfect guy. She thought that the guy who fit this the best would be the one that I'd marry, the perfect guy. The thing is, she never told me about this list of hers until just a little bit ago. It wouldn't have been a big deal had she given me the list just a little bit earlier, because when she finally did give it to me, I was engaged.

"Jace!" I heard my name echo from downstairs. The loud voice penetrated through the locked door of my studio. I sighed pulled the picture from the liquid, hung it up, and walked out to greet the only person with a voice that loud: Baelee.

"Baelee?" I called when I got downstairs. There was no answer. I started to wonder if I was just hearing things, but a voice that loud is either Baelee or God. I turned towards the kitchen, where she stood and traced the stained glass on my refrigerator.

She through her blonde head back and laughed. "I cannot believe you still have this thing, you've had it since college." Her fingers still followed the colored glass down the fridge. I get attached to things easily, like my fridge. Many a repair man had revived it from near death and lectured me on getting a new one. It's not like I couldn't afford one, I just didn't want one. This one had special memories.

"I don't think you came here to talk about my household appliances." I pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. I kicked the one across from me out, but she hopped on the counter. "So what's up, Baelee?"

She shrugged. "Things. Things are up." I nodded, she nodded, I hoped she'd continue instead of leaving me in the dark about whatever she wanted to talk about. She hardly ever came out to SoHo to visit me, she didn't like the neighborhood even though it was pretty safe. "Things are different, you know that Jace?"

I nodded. "I'm getting married. That's different." She nodded. Whole lot of nodding going on.

She hoped off the counter and took the seat opposite from me. "Do you remember when you broke up with Kris?" I nodded. I didn't like remembering breaking up with Kris. "Well, do you remember how upset you were?" I nodded. "I didn't want to see you that sad ever again, so I kind of designed the perfect guy for you."

I raised my eyebrow. "I don't get it."

Baelee reached into her purse, pulled out a sheet of yellow lined paper with her chicken scratch all over it. "This is the list." She handed it to me, and I began to look it over. "So, every boyfriend that you had since Kris, I started keeping track of if he had what was on the list, if he didn't, I'd try to get you to break up with him."

"Okay...so....what are you trying to say here, Baels?" I knew what she was trying to say, I just didn't want her to.

She swallowed hard. "I'm saying that out of the three boyfriends you've had since Kris, Eric has the least amount of these qualities. I just, I just, I think, well, I mean, you can do better than Eric." Her words tumbled out of her mouth.

I looked over the list, I must say that the list created the perfect guy. It'd be impossible to ever find someone with some of these qualities. I knew that Eric wasn't perfect, but he loved me...and that was good enough in my mind. "I know Eric doesn't have a lot of these qualities, but he's a great guy."

"I know, Eric is wonderful, he's funny, smart, he makes a lot of money, he likes to surf, he's the perfect guy for some other girl. He's not for you, Jace. You can do better that Eric."

"Baelee, he loves me! I love him! We're getting married in three months, I'm ready to walk down the isle with him."

She hung her head down. "I'm not telling you to call off the wedding, I'm just telling you to take that blindfold off and maybe you'll see someone who isn't a workaholic, who doesn't eat your jolly ranchers, who hangs his towel up, who, who, who...knows how to play music rather than put it together."

Eric was a producer. He worked with tons of bands and helped spark great CDs. Eric was a very in demand man. It was one of the things that attracted me to him, music. When he told me that he was a producer, I couldn't help but be amazed, but when I asked him if he could play any instruments, he said 'no'.

Baelee and I got off the subject soon after I told her I'd 'take that blindfold off' and start looking. I felt bad, I felt like I was cheating on Eric. I couldn't tell him about the list, and I could never let him see it. I stuffed it in my planer because I knew Eric wouldn't touch anything that had a tampon wedged in a pocket.

After she left, I went back up to my studio and continued developing picture Eric had begged me to take of this band. He was producing their record and working overtime, but at least he was near SoHo. Usually, Los Angeles or Orlando call his name, this time he was in Manhattan.

I shook the picture in the liquid and watched the black and white faces appear. They were called Good Charlotte, and they were a very well behaved group of boys. I laughed, they knew how to play music, who knows...maybe my Mr. Perfect lies within them.

Item #34: Can play guitar and has the ability to write a sappy love song as well as a awesome death metal tune.