My perfect man.

You want to know my perfect man?

He accepts me. He likes that I have curves, he likes my laugh, my smile is cute, my eyes are just blue enough, my hair can be any color, my feet don’t always have to be painted, my nails can be chipped, my outfits don’t have to be form fitting and perfect, my makeup doesn’t have to be on, my eyebrows don’t have to have a specific arch, my lunch can be a cheese burger, my craziness is mistaken for cuteness, my ability to cry at books or tv shows is sweet, my love and need to save animals is dedicated, my friends are awesome, but not as awesome as me. My perfect man doesn’t have to be perfect, not at all, he just has to think I am. I want to think the way he holds the door open is precious. His slight road rage is sexy, his hair is fun to grab, he laughs when I mess up, I smile when he smiles, He loves staying in and going out. My perfect man isn’t perfect. I am not perfect. But together, we become pretty damn close.