He is perfect. The succulent, strawberry-like lips. The immense height that every average guy envy. The enthralling eyes that you want to stare at every second and can make you feel cloud nine. And the virile and superhuman arms and abs that you would like to clinch when you're feeling cold.
It's like a guy who came out straight from the fictional, make-believe, romantic novel.
But that man. That perfect gentleman. Is my guy. My boyfriend.
And me. Being the Plain-Jane. The "she-perfectly-blends-with-a-wallpaper" kind of girl. The simple slash bookish nerd.
Who the hell would have thought that this guy, so damn perfect, would end up with an unadorned girl like me?
It's been two years and counting that I am with this guy. So many had conclude that we may not be able to sustain our relationship for a long term. Some conclude that maybe later, we might break up. So many kontrabidas. And so many what-if's.
I came to the point that maybe they were right. That he is too-good-to-be-true. I even argued with my mind that he may not the right guy I've been looking for and that he belongs with someone like him. Beautiful and impeccable.
But my heart tells me to hold on. To clear my mind of the things that can make me feel inferior. And it's not about looks. And he's more than guise. More than a good-looking face.
If he's a guy that would favor ladies who has a goddess face rather than a girl with a compassionate heart, well, maybe he would not choose me.
And I'm deeply pleased that he sees me as beautiful and perfect beyond my imperfect and meek exterior.
And that would make me the prettiest girl (well, in his own ;] )
~reblogged from my
multiply site.. ;)
