Saturday, March 31, 2012

I'm a Hopeless Romantic

I'll be your trophy if you court me well. I'll be the Elizabeth to your Mr. Darcy, so to speak. I'll be that and more if you'll only do something that I won’t forget. Get me something I can’t resist taking. Find me in a moment that’s so tender and so beautifully poetic that if I let you in, you’ll have a bragging right no one else has. Do your homework. Find out what makes me tick. Discover that I love classic literature, and sappy sonnets sweetly composed by Shakespeare himself. Learn that I would much rather wander around the house in my handmade slippers than go anywhere, and if I go out the front door, its to someplace beautiful and tender, sweetly innocent and quiet, somewhere that I can go and not make a sound, because as much as I talk, I think the sound that the wind makes when it hits the leaves is beautiful. I think that the best score is composed by birds and water, crickets and grass, and no one can mimic that. Look inside of me and discover that I still like to color in My Little Pony coloring books while I drink my morning coffee. Realize I’m a giant oxymoron. The grown up child, not the child all grown up. Investigate my life, buy me flowers when you figure it out. Bring me flowers at work, its something that I’ve always longed to have happen, and I’ll brag about it all day. Show up at midnight and whisk me away to some scenic overlook where you quote my favorite play and once you’ve soliloquized eloquently, I’ll look you in the eyes, tears streaming down my face, and whisper “you know”. Because it doesn’t take much to memorize Shakespeare, but to find my favorite soliloquy is a whole different matter.

Ask me about my interests. I may seem like the typical girl, but I’m not and for every girly preppy part in me, there is a separate but equal not so girly and very nerdy part as well. Ask me about my awkwardness, I’ll show you my pet turtle, and his balloons and we’ll move on. Get me to laugh, and I mean really laugh. Because my fake laugh is very typical and boring. But you get me to laugh hard enough and I’ll squeal and snort and you’ll just stare, until finally you give in and start laughing too. 

Talk about life and hopes and dreams and plans under the summer stars with me. When we get cold, snuggle with me, but not in a super obvious manner, because I’m supposed to be denying you. Finally, reach out and kiss me, in the most tender and romantic way possible. Then don’t speak. Don’t say a word, because too often clumsy words ruin elegant moments. 

Then you’ll have me for sure. Heart and Soul I’ll be yours. 


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