But then, I lost hope in that dream. I still had the visions of the perfect man in my head, but I didn't believe in him anymore. He didn't truly exist.
I did what every girl does. She picks a man, she dates him, she discovers what qualities she does or doesn't like, and when the relationship is over, she moves on. She goes and picks another man, with the qualities she does like and without the qualities she didn't like. And, again, she discovered what qualities in him she did and didn't want, and moved on. The exact same thing that men do to find their proverbial 'dream girl'.
But the men I picked, they just weren't right for me. They were awful for me, as a matter of fact, and the more I thought and analyzed about those past relationships, the more I realized I was thisclose to having my ideal man. My Prince Charming. My Knight in Shining Armor, if you will. I was eliminating all the bad, and getting so much more of the good it was frightening.
And then I moved, started a new life. Some things are out of a girl's control. Besides, I didn't have anyone back there to hang around for. And I met some girls. And they went and introduced me to you.
I saw you, and I never wanted to see you again. I admit it. I hoped I never saw you again. But every night I prayed I would see you again. And I did. Every week. Same time, same place.
I hate you for what you are. I hate you for being so perfect I can barely breath when I know I'm going to see you. I hate you for the way I can breathe so easily once I actually do see you. I hate you for the way you make me melt when you give me a hug.
I hate the way even my mother likes you, and she's only met you twice. I hate the way I can be telling myself not to like you, because you couldn't like me, and you go and wink at me, or put your arm around me, or say something that makes me think otherwise. What I hate most, is how you always have a girl smiling at you, sitting with you, looking for you, trying to flirt with you.
I'll even tell you why I hate that so much. Because I'm insecure. I'm not as pretty as they are, I'm not as smart as they are. I'm not enough anything and too much everything.
I suppose I'll just make up any reason to be unsure of myself, to find an excuse to weasel out of how I feel about you. Awful, I know, but you're it. I can feel it when I see you smile. You're just it. And that scares me. Terrifies me, actually. And I'm looking for every excuse I can not to take action about how I feel. Because I'm scared that you could be my 'it', and I could be your 'it'.
And really, I'm too young for that. You're too young for that. They're always saying they didn't fall in love and get married until they were twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and we're not that old.
You're just so perfect, though. I mean, everything about you has just captured me, drawn me to you. The way you smile so big and really mean it. The way you love little children, and are willing to log in countless hours of freeze-tag and hide and seek to make them happy. The way everyone loves you because your personality just demands attention. I love the way you're so damn good at everything you do, and you aren't the least bit conceited. I don't even think you know that you're good at everything you do.
I love your arms, your hands, your stomach, your back. It's all so beautiful. I love your face, your smiles. You smile and I just about die inside. But there's one thing about you I don't understand. And it frightens me so much, I don't know what to do. It's your eyes.
You have an angels eyes.