I don’t need a man, nor do I need someone to make me whole, I don’t need someone to fix my problems, to support me, or any of the other things. That doesn’t mean I’m not a hopeless romantic. I have (to quote my mother) this “shell” about me. It’s a tough exterior, it’s sassy, it’s picky, it’s full of high expectations and a ‘douche-dar’ like you wouldn’t believe. Beyond that though.. past the scar tissue, past the cold heart is something so much more.
I would trace the line of your arm for hours thinking to myself, “this is real. He’s really here and he really does love me.” I would lay as still as I could tricking you to think I was asleep just to watch your face. I would watch as your body responded to mine, every time I would shiver you’d pull me a little closer, I would sigh loudly and you would smile subtly. Until finally you caught on that I was awake and opened your sleepy eyes. You’d look at me softly pull the hair out of my face, “You should sleep eventually.” I’d nod really quietly hoping you’d go back to bed. Knowing me too well you’d pull my head to that soft spot on your chest that puts me to sleep immediately. My legs lay out stretched as my ear listens to your constant beat of your heart and I still can’t help tracing my fingers around you. Unreal I think as I try to remember this moment in case something gets lost along the way. Partially annoyed by my insomnia you still my hand with yours and whisper quietly, “sleep.” Just like that I breathe deeply and close my eyes.
Right? Hopeless romantic. However picturesque that may seem or out stretched that isn’t all I look for in a man. I want some infinite flaw. Something unfix-able, and I can love you anyway. Partially because I have so many flaws myself that I could never be in a perfect relationship, but I yearn for that chaos, that chatter the bickering, the strength that comes from the true fights and the trust that comes from the bad nights.