He was the closest thing to perfect that I’ve ever met. He checked all of my boxes (I’d like to think that I’ve got incredibly unique “standards” for what I am looking for in a romantic partner, but I don’t…really though, if they were that different from most women then they wouldn’t be so “standard” would they???):
- Age appropriate. (No younger than 4 years, no older than 6)
- He was tall enough to take the ride. At 5’11-6’ (I never asked exactly how tall he was, I rarely ask anyone considering that it tends to serve as an open invitation for me to be asked the same question and at 4’10 I really hate that question. Annnd I never took the chance to be a total creeper and take a gander at his ID [I may have just exposed my “crazy” but I refuse to believe that I am the only one that has taken the liberty of checking someone’s gov’t issued identification]), he cleared the 1-foot requirement (yeah, I am a heightist, wanna fight about it?)
- He loved music (albeit his obsession has a singular interest, hip hop—specifically southern rap, which I find ironic considering that that laser like focus isn’t shared in regard to his significant other), which is a necessity for me considering that a day in my life isn’t complete without music (seriously, whilst writing this via random play of my Spotify music library I am #np Guns N’ Roses, The Roots, Mykko Montana, Janet Jackson, and Music from the 007 James Bond Collection Soundtrack [I’m not kidding lol if I could attach a screen shot I would])!
- He had facial hair (granted a mustache, which I think is pretty pretentious and a little corny. I am unapologetically #teambeardgang, #noshaveNovember is my favorite month, #iswoon over full and well kempt facial hair, AJ was my fave Boy of the Backstreet, I mean c’mon I took a dude with a full “face blanket” to my HS senior prom for crying out loud!), though possessing a “thigh tickler”(thank you internet for all of these silly terms) is by no means a deal-breaker, it certainly does more help than harm (think of it like a topcoat of polish).
- He was a quirky turkey (his thing was horror films and grotesque/macabre drawing…not my thing at. all.) and he knows the most obscure facts as they relate to it, and there is something alluring about that.
- He cared deeply about things (I was impressed that he had a particular interest in local politics), his resume includes some volunteering and state/local political party work.
- He caught me, or to better put it he read and, even more intriguing, saw me fairly well.. and realistically that might have been the crue de grâce (the “kill shot”, the-straw-that-broke-the-camel’s-back, what had me hooked, the thing that had me in trouble)! Example: he would make comments on my shifting demeanor with different people and somehow, after only a month, he had a knack for knowing when I wasn’t here for a situation or person (as obvious as that may seem to tell with most people, my long-time friends can tell you that it even took them years of knowing me to pick-up on my subtle, [probably not-so-subtle to them] well-hidden but sudden mood changes). And as someone who takes measures to preserve her privacy via having uncheckable public face, I have to admit that there was something about his ability to catch me at my most “private in public”, that made me feel some type of way.
But as perfect as he was, he wasn’t mine. He belonged to someone else. I knew that when I finally came to terms with that reality only then would I be ready to move on.
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