Thursday, April 30, 2009

I wake up alone.

What do you do when the person you like tells you he likes someone else?

You mope around a little, engage in some retail therapy, listen to some emo music and life returns to it's normalcy.

Just a few days ago, a colleague asked me what type of guy i liked. The question caught me off guard as I was completely stumped.

Without thinking, I said, my yardstick.

She frowned and said, how am I going to find a guy like that? What is it about the yardstick that you like?

I like nice boys, I replied.

And what defines a nice boy?

The type that will hold the door open for you.

Oh you mean the gentleman?

I suppose (half sure)

Oh that type are extinct. Good luck!

I went home and thought about it. It wasn't the fact that I thought he was hot since the very first day that attracted me. It was the attraction itself. When I'm with him I feel like I get the air knocked out of my lungs, I like how we're on the same page about alot of things, I liked how we could have good conversation, I liked how he laughed and smiled was infectious, I liked how he lived his life carpe diem.

And then it dawned on me; the fallacy of my hypothesis of having a yardstick. He had a name and face.

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