Wanted: Tall, Dark and Handsome.
If not tall, then medium.
If not medium, then short is ok too.
If not dark, then medium. Or light. Really, I’m easy.
As for handsome, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If I think you’re darling, then you just are.
Wanted: A man who swoons, woos, flatters, and delights.
Swoonage & wooage should be limited to me alone (and in a platonic sense, your mother, sisters, nieces, nephews & daughters, as well as cute babies of friends.) Public signs of swoonage & wooage include gazing lovingly at me from across the room when we’re at a party, talking to our friends, and not having to hang or smother me with attention, a random flower or two ‘just because’, and general kindness.
Kindness can never be over-rated, my sweet.
As for flattery, it’s always appreciated, but bonus points to anyone who can tell me when I’m 9 months prego that I look like a Goddess. Actually, telling me any time that I look like a Goddess is a bonus.
Flattery will get you everywhere, my darling.
You’re my delight.
Wanted: Intelligence, Patience & Ingenuity. If you can’t provide me with stimulating and intellectual banter, if you spell like a first-grader, if you don’t know the difference between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’ or ‘their’ and ‘there’, then please, just go back and smother yourself with a pillow. Or at least go find yourself a pageant contestant whose beauty outrivals her brains tenfold. As for patience, I don’t have any. I need yours. Thanks in advance.
For these purposes, ‘ingenuity’ is a synonym for ‘handy’. Now, I can’t cook or even do electrical work to save my life, but every now and again I can whip up a feast or re-wire my bathroom. Similar traits are expected.
Wanted: Security. Not necessarily in the financial or physical sense, per se (though that’s always a plus), but security in our relationship. If you want to go to a bachelor party, go ahead. I trust you – or at least I’d better. Just show me common courtesy, affection, trust, honesty, and throw in a bit of adoration and security will come complete.
Wanted: Imperfection. Got stomach problems? Hairy toes? A funny mole (out of sight, that is)? It’s all good. I’ll adore you for your good points and love you even more for your imperfections.
I don’t need, nor do I particularly want, a perfect guy. I’d much rather find the perfect guy for me.
How hard can that be?