Mr. Right

Cocoa curls would gently hang over a face as sunkissed as mine is pale, crocodile-green eyes framed by angel-thick lashes peeking out from that beautiful curtain. He'd be maybe 5'11" or so, the perfect height to cuddle and hug. He'd like stripes and flannel and all sorts of silly animes and webcomics. People might call him a childish fool, but he'd be MY childish fool, and we'd be foolish children together.

And he'd understand. He'd realize that I don't want a sensual, carnal relationship, I'm not it for sex. He'd be okay with the fact that I've never been in a relationship, never had sex, never been kissed. He'd adore my love for literature, and laugh at all my dumb jokes, even if we both know they're anything but funny.

He'd kiss me awake in the mornings with the scent of coffee on his shirt from making a fresh pot. He'd kiss my closed eyelids when I'm up at 3 in the morning, ask me to go to bed. He'd help me draw, and I'd help him write. He'd hold me tight when I'm scared or in a self-loathing slump. He'd talk me out of my lowest lows, and he'd let me do the same for him. We'd be the best of friends, the most romantic couple the world has ever seen.

We would be each other's missing half, complete each other, love each other for all of eternity.

And he would be mine.