I love to make lists. I do. And not surprisingly, I have a list in my head about what my perfect boyfriend should look like. Now, don’t judge me — I know I’m not the only one. And I don’t necessarily mean just the “appearance vise list”. Not at all to be quite honest. For all you nosy people out there, here’s a little peek.
1. I want someone who will laugh at all of my stupid jokes even when they aren’t funny. (Which for the record, they always are.)
2. Someone who can make me feel drunk when I’m sober.
3. Someone. who almost ran the red light because he kept looking at me. (Taylor Swift reference anyone?)
4. Someone who will bake a cake with me at 2 AM. Or cupcakes. And then eat it with me afterwards.
5. Someone who knows all the lyrics and dances to every High School Musical song there is and can and WILL reinterpret in with me.
6. Someone with that stupid sense of humor, who will keep making jokes at 4am and making me laugh uncontrollably even though I clearly told him I have to be up at 6 AM.
7. Someone who has enough class to pull out a chair or hold a door open for me, but is spontaneous and fun enough to take a selfie with me on our wedding day.
8. Someone who…
This list could go on and on and it probably would, if I wouldn’t have met this person few years ago. He had everything that I had on this fictional list. And he was attractive. Like a lot. If I should describe him using only one word, I would use the word “perfect”. And every time I tell this story to someone, everybody says I had to feel so lucky to find someone like him. So perfect for me.
And yet, here I was, not feeling anything towards him. Yup. Nothing. Not even a single emotion. Weird, huh? I asked the universe for something very, very specific and it gave me EXACTLY what I asked for and there I was, telling universe (or whatever/whoever made it possible that we crossed lives with each other) that that’s not what I want? That I don’t want it anymore? That it’s not enough?
You keep making this list in your head about what your future lover should be like. Like “spontaneous,” “funny,” or “caring.” And then you meet them, and they’re everything you ever wanted in a person. But you don’t feel anything. That’s because people don’t fall for lists. They fall for feelings. And that’s why, like it or not, the only thing that should be on your list should be “butterflies.”
So here I am, telling this to the world, to the universe, to whoever is reading this and to you, my future boyfriend, that I don’t care if you don’t know the dance moves to “We’re All This Together” or that you probably won’t serenade me “She Will Be Loved” under my window and I don’t even care you won’t even ask me to dance with you in the pouring rain as long as I can check off the butterflies box out of my imaginary list. Because that’s the only thing I want and truly the only thing I need. Butterflies.