eighty-nine
growing up, i've always imagined myself to be with somebody who:
1. could dance like a dream. like how fred astaire used to whirl ginger rogers around, except that my boy would be able to dance hiphop, too. not breakdancing, though (as much as i enjoy watching people spin on their heads, i think this should be left for people under 18).
2. could sing and/or play an instrument. drums would be sexiest, but i'll take anything. even violins and harps.
3. would drop and leave everything behind when i tell him that i want us to do what they did: live in a far-away place, explore its beauty, acquaint ourselves with its people and how they live, immerse ourselves in its culture and art and food, and then write all about it afterwards. except that we know we can't write for shit and we wouldn't even entertain the notion of publishing anything we 've written, but still, our children and grandchildren will be richer, in the intellectual and spiritual (i truly believe that learning and understanding how everybody on this planet lives could inspire more tolerance, kindness, and respect for life than all the religious education classes in the whole world) sense of the word, for it.
4. would not grimace or wrinkle his nose everytime i try out something that may look like it came from outer space or really just plain gross or weird (when it comes to food, i'm all for the "don't knock it unless you've tried it" philosophy).
5. loves animals but will understand when i tell him that as much as i like them, i really wouldn't like to have one living inside my house. unless it's a fish, i guess.
6. would not ask me to rub my lipstick off the rare times i wear it.
7. would instinctively know the perfect something to do or give me, not to mention what NOT to say or do, when i'm feeling down or PMS-ing.
8. would not give me excuses and lies so ridiculous, they insult my intelligence.
9. would have chris evans' butt.
10. would spoil me rotten. so much so that only my absurdly healthy sense of guilt would save me from being a complete horror to live with.
given that the boy doesn't do or have any of the above, why am i still with him?
maybe it's because i'm really in love.
or maybe it's because he is and does a whole lot of other things that aren't in the list but have grown to be as (or even more) important to me. he's smarter than i am, for one. in his words, he's "not a hipon". he could also be cute and charming especially when he's not consciously trying to be. he sends me the perfect cards and sometimes write letters that make me want to smile and tear up at the same time. even though we fight and fight like cats and, well, cats, i only remember him raising his voice at me only once (i'm still having trouble forgetting that one time, though). he watches TV shows that i make him watch, reads the books i make him read, wears clothes i pick out for him. and he knows about and appreciates music more than i do (even though i've always wanted a boyfriend who'd sing for me, i honestly know zilch about music).
or maybe because he loves me in his own unxeplainable, frustrating, and maddening way. and that if he were to make a list like this one, i wouldn't be anything he's always wanted in a girl either.
or maybe it's because i hear of people like them and think that maybe, just maybe, things aren't really as bad as they seem.
1. could dance like a dream. like how fred astaire used to whirl ginger rogers around, except that my boy would be able to dance hiphop, too. not breakdancing, though (as much as i enjoy watching people spin on their heads, i think this should be left for people under 18).
2. could sing and/or play an instrument. drums would be sexiest, but i'll take anything. even violins and harps.
3. would drop and leave everything behind when i tell him that i want us to do what they did: live in a far-away place, explore its beauty, acquaint ourselves with its people and how they live, immerse ourselves in its culture and art and food, and then write all about it afterwards. except that we know we can't write for shit and we wouldn't even entertain the notion of publishing anything we 've written, but still, our children and grandchildren will be richer, in the intellectual and spiritual (i truly believe that learning and understanding how everybody on this planet lives could inspire more tolerance, kindness, and respect for life than all the religious education classes in the whole world) sense of the word, for it.
4. would not grimace or wrinkle his nose everytime i try out something that may look like it came from outer space or really just plain gross or weird (when it comes to food, i'm all for the "don't knock it unless you've tried it" philosophy).
5. loves animals but will understand when i tell him that as much as i like them, i really wouldn't like to have one living inside my house. unless it's a fish, i guess.
6. would not ask me to rub my lipstick off the rare times i wear it.
7. would instinctively know the perfect something to do or give me, not to mention what NOT to say or do, when i'm feeling down or PMS-ing.
8. would not give me excuses and lies so ridiculous, they insult my intelligence.
9. would have chris evans' butt.
10. would spoil me rotten. so much so that only my absurdly healthy sense of guilt would save me from being a complete horror to live with.
given that the boy doesn't do or have any of the above, why am i still with him?
maybe it's because i'm really in love.
or maybe it's because he is and does a whole lot of other things that aren't in the list but have grown to be as (or even more) important to me. he's smarter than i am, for one. in his words, he's "not a hipon". he could also be cute and charming especially when he's not consciously trying to be. he sends me the perfect cards and sometimes write letters that make me want to smile and tear up at the same time. even though we fight and fight like cats and, well, cats, i only remember him raising his voice at me only once (i'm still having trouble forgetting that one time, though). he watches TV shows that i make him watch, reads the books i make him read, wears clothes i pick out for him. and he knows about and appreciates music more than i do (even though i've always wanted a boyfriend who'd sing for me, i honestly know zilch about music).
or maybe because he loves me in his own unxeplainable, frustrating, and maddening way. and that if he were to make a list like this one, i wouldn't be anything he's always wanted in a girl either.
or maybe it's because i hear of people like them and think that maybe, just maybe, things aren't really as bad as they seem.
