My ideal man is someone who wants a committment," now, that may not sound like a bad thing-- actually,
I believe every woman wants that-- but for a question like this, it needs depth; it needs detail, which is
something I am not very good at doing-- I'll still try.
-
My ideal man reads novels, not those ragged Playboy, and Penthouse magazines but real books like, "The Stranger" by Albert Camus,
"Lolita" by Vladimir Nabokov, or J.D Salinger's classic read, "The Catcher in the Rye." He enjoys having long conversations, and watching
film noir movies with me, he even enjoys those idiotic, nonsense films like "The Hangover," because it's so crazy it's funny. He likes
public displays of affection; not caring who sees our love and our infatuation with one another, he loves the way my hand perfectly
fits in his, as though I was made just for him. He likes it when I wear his clothes because I look good in them and he knows, I love
having a piece of him, he tells me I'm beautiful, even when I look like a big, fat blowfish. He lets me wear his cologne because he
knows how much I adore his smell, only to buy me my own bottle because he knows it makes me feel closer to him. He loves cuddling,
because, who doesn't love cuddling? He lets me fall asleep first, just so he can watch me sleep and he sings me corny, love songs when
I can't. He's spontaneous, he loves waking me up at 4 A.M in the morning just to take a drive around the block, even when he knows,
I'll be pissed off in that moment. He hurts my feelings because he loves and cares about me, and wants me to learn that the truth hurts.
He randomly whispers sweet nothings in my ear in the store, he hugs me from behind, when I'm upset and pull away, he pulls me right back and makes me tell him what's wrong so he can cheer me up, he calls me at 12 AM just say Happy Birthday,...
My ideal man is someone who wants a committment," now, that may not sound like a bad thing-- actually,
I believe every woman wants that-- but for a question like this, it needs depth; it needs detail, which is
something I am not very good at doing-- I'll still try.
-
My ideal man reads novels, not those ragged Playboy, and Penthouse magazines but real books like, "The Stranger" by Albert Camus,
"Lolita" by Vladimir Nabokov, or J.D Salinger's classic read, "The Catcher in the Rye." He enjoys having long conversations, and watching
film noir movies with me, he even enjoys those idiotic, nonsense films like "The Hangover," because it's so crazy it's funny. He likes
public displays of affection; not caring who sees our love and our infatuation with one another, he loves the way my hand perfectly
fits in his, as though I was made just for him. He likes it when I wear his clothes because I look good in them and he knows, I love
having a piece of him, he tells me I'm beautiful, even when I look like a big, fat blowfish. He lets me wear his cologne because he
knows how much I adore his smell, only to buy me my own bottle because he knows it makes me feel closer to him. He loves cuddling,
because, who doesn't love cuddling? He lets me fall asleep first, just so he can watch me sleep and he sings me corny, love songs when
I can't. He's spontaneous, he loves waking me up at 4 A.M in the morning just to take a drive around the block, even when he knows,
I'll be pissed off in that moment. He hurts my feelings because he loves and cares about me, and wants me to learn that the truth hurts.
He randomly whispers sweet nothings in my ear in the store, he hugs me from behind, when I'm upset and pull away, he pulls me right back and makes me tell him what's wrong so he can cheer me up, he calls me at 12 AM just say Happy Birthday,...
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