Blogging at 7:39 a.m in the morning so it's an update for you people when it's time for you to rise and shine, because that'll be my bedtime. Theoretically, it actually IS now, but I'm not that fatigued, so ok, a blog post.
八(＾□＾*) YAY! 八(＾□＾*)
This post’s so unique because it revolves around MY DEFINITION of love. Anyway, I’m not writing this post for anybody in particular, unlike the others previously. I've to state this because people'll always end up asking me time and again...
"Are you blogging about me? Are you blogging about me? Are you blogging about meeeeeeeeee....."
"Uhm no, actually I'm not."
But well, since it’s a blog post with a distinctive topic, yes whatever I’ve blogged, you girls may try to envision with your boyfriends or your future boyfriends or if you’re #foreveralone, Uhm, try at your own discretion with your pillows.
OK I WAS JUST KIDDING THERE, PLEASE D0N’T.
Anyway yes, you people SHOULD read because it’s just so relevant and you’d probably leave this page thinking: Wow, it’s like a love story out of a novel. I get that after reading too, funny.
And so begins, HER WORD ON LOVE.
Simple enough…
I want to be the kind of couples who would squabble over the littlest and most unimportant of things; simple details like television channels, the food that we're going to eat, when I tread on his toes unintentionally, our favorite songs and even something lame, like the weather.
He’ll have the most endearing side of me. The one where I pout a lot, try to win him over after antagonizing him with big glassy puss in the boots eyes and when I purse my lips, just to add to my ‘innocence’.
I want a guy who will shower me with concern and doesn't make me feel inferior to other girls. We’ll hold hands as he walks me home, and at times I’ll walk him home. We stroll in the park, surprise each other with thoughtful gifts and end our nights with stolen kisses.
We will hug, and probably cuddle a lot, like most of the time. He teases me with a painful blush in the atmosphere, and piggybacks me.
He’ll not pamper me with plenty of “I love you” because most of the time, they’re used for coaxing. He’ll look me in the eyes and hold me with the faith that he entrusts, conveying his love with a tender, unspoken honor.
He'll let me wear his favorite sweater and root for him in his matches. We’ll take care of each other when we’ve fallen sick and cook porridge with all the mediocre skills in the world.
On weekend nights, we will rent dvds and watch horror flicks, romance flicks, comedy and cartoons. We’ll write poems to each other and drink ourselves dry and penniless on those mentally deranged nights when we just had to let loose. But most of the time, we’ll be looking prep and proper, ready to welcome the judgments of the world.
We’ll talk on the phone till the birds creak in the dawn and fall asleep with velvet and scented dreams. He’ll make all the other girls jealous of our love, and all the guys jealous of my devotion towards him.
He’ll introduce me to his prettiest and most attractive female friend and declare with gratification that ‘I’m his’.
I’ll bake for him; I’ll work on my abysmal culinary skills and hopefully make him something edible without ending in the emergency ward scalded with all the oil. I’ll place an apple in our picnic basket with the cutest note ever.
On days when we’d like to disappear for a while, we’ll vanish in a bookstore away from the hustle and bustle of town, reading our favorite novels, sifted into the world of our favorite music, our fingers clutched along a cappuccino. Then we’ll take long bus rides home when I fall asleep in his arms.
We’ll be so in love that we see past all our differences, our incompatibility, our insecurities and fears for this world, one too big; for this universe, so unaccommodating. When our glances lock in that single moment, I know perfectly well he’s the boy I want to walk down the aisle with.
He’ll meet me under the dim lights when my hair isn’t brushed and I’m in my PJS, telling me he loves me, beneath all the makeup and exterior beautifications.
He’d probably be a Cancer or Virgo. An adventurer, or a thrill-seeking boy and he probably have the most distinctive ability to tease me so that my words and confessions spiral into shooting stars in his presence. We’ll be so perfect together.
It scares me that I have dreamed up my perfection of a boyfriend and yet probably not one boy in the world could do these for me. It’s like concocting the Barbie formula for your girl and letting your wildest dreams fall apart, right before your very eyes. Oh no, what have I just done.
Well girls, don't take this post too seriously and spend your whole lives pinning for a Prince Charming that won't appear. Jesus, no. This is truly a spontaneous post. There'll definitely be boys out there who can meet your requirements but this is too fucking perfect so no, lower your standards please.
And boys, girls are just so demanding. But if you do truly love her, won't you try to fulfill some of those for your ladies?
Ok that's all. I'm really tired. Goodnight. It's 8:55 a.m (after the last edit).
My body clock's fucked.
My body clock's fucked.
xoxo
Chloe
No comments:
Post a Comment