My Ideal Girl

My Ideal Girl

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Look, I'm not going to sugarcoat anything. The girl I want to date is going to be pretty, maybe only in my eyes, but you get my point. A part of me wants to be that guy, you know, the one who sweeps the forgotten girl off her feet and makes her feel loved. But then again, my taste ain't so different from anyone else. How embarrassing it is to admit that. The reality of the fact is that we all fall for the same eyes, smile, and voice. Pathetic. We call that special, unique, name it whatever you'd like to make her seem the one exception in the world filled with billions of people. Yet, there she is, coveted above all. Height? Check. Almond-shaped, double eyelid eyes? Check. Jeez, I guess I sound a little too shallow huh. Fine, what if I said she had to be smart, a brain capable of understanding organic chemistry but coy enough to navigate a crowded, bustling street, entering with a quarter and leaving with a dollar. Oh, yes, she has to cook too! I don't mean to insult the feminist party out there but it'd be nice. I mean, not that I can't cook. It's a two way deal, a little bit of me and a little bit of her. That would be ideal.

I would like if she were musically talented too. Maybe you can call it the voice of an angel or simply music to my ears. It has to be more than just some repetitive chord progression, I mean actually reading music with a personal composition of notes too complicated for rudimentary comprehension. Art? Well, I've always appreciated drawings, especially those fast-paced videos of people drawing and coloring, but it isn't too important to me. Don't get me wrong though: it's still awesome if she could do it. Just not needed.

The list could go on and on, stretching beyond numbers. If I really wanted to be picky, perhaps even mention the length of hair and sweetness of voice. More or less, this would be like one of those character selection screens, where I have the power to bend anything over its natural limits. A push of a button, a whimsical choice of deletion and creation.

To be honest, though, it isn't happening. All of these things are mere fantasies in reality. It doesn't matter if she isn't this dolled up version of what she could be. Sure, being pretty is nice and singing well is utterly attractive but let's be real: I'll fall in love with her regardless. You see, the thing about the ideal girl is that she's molded, day by day with each word spoken, smile made, and eyes met. One day, it'll be just waking up to a phone call from her, voice tired, faint but rejuvenating and heart-warming. To hold her cold hands means protecting her with whatever heat God gave me, something of worth I hope to make me the ideal guy.

She's the best. Nothing in comparison can dwarf it and only because to have the ideal girl is more so about me than it is about her. My love, actions, and decisions in total compliment of each other. Besides, let's not get ahead of ourselves. None of this comes as a given assumption that she'll oblige me as much as I do to her. Give me a sketch of a girl with the qualities I mentioned above. I promise she won't look much different than the one next to me, nose deep into a book and irreplaceable to all degrees and extents.

So what is my ideal girl? I have no clue, except she'll be the next one I love. I'll update you then.

Am I too good for her? Is she too good for him?

Am I too good for her? Is she too good for him?

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