My perfect guy has enchanting eyes, longish hair and a stoic look. He laughs at all of my jokes no matter how stupid or small. He listens to me when I bitch and moan and rant and rave. He won’t point out the many contradictions in my logic. He wipes away all of my tears and tries to make me smile. He will hold me while I cry even for a while. He wouldn’t placate me or tell me what he thinks I want to hear. He would never berate or lecture me on my negativity, but sympathize and share his tales of heartache and despair. He would join in on one of my many stupid and immature antics, and relish my spontaneous impulses with an air of eagerness and worry. We would argue, we would fight he will be wrong I will be right. We would lick our wounds and reconcile. We would relieze the depth of our love for one another and swear to never fight again. Which we know is a lie since we are at times opposites and don’t agree but we are are each others constant. Our very own slightly happier ever after.