He's well mannered. With kind eyes. Eyes that can pick me out in a crowded room. And he's lovely to my friends. But not that lovely. He can pick me up easily. And rubs my hand while holding it. He towers over me. And is well dressed. But not too well dressed. And he's goodlooking. But not prettier than I am. He laughs with me. Not at me. But definitely with a childlike abandon. He runs with me. Figuratively, sometimes also literally. He also has clean fingernails and clean toes. He has one blue eye and one green. Can flip the perfect pancake and ride a horse backwards. Okay, maybe those last few are borrowed from a movie.
MY perfect guy? He could be all this and more. He could be none of this at all.
Because the beauty is in the game. The search. The chase. You know what they say. It's not the end result. The happily ever after. It's the journey. The good dates. The mediocre dates. Even the terrible dates. It's all the girl talk in between. The giggles. The memories. Yup, it's definitely the memories. (and the pictures!)
And that's life. And I'm okay with that. (as long as, you know, you can promise he's out there!)
x's & o's,
Leslie
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