I was playing with my perfectly straight black hair. "You know, it’s only when I’m alone that my hair looks good" I moaned to myself. The house was perfectly quiet. It was almost frightening. The parent left to go to God-knows-where. And I only wanted to talk to one person. I couldn’t call him; he was never there. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he didn’t forget about me all together. I mean, compared to all the girls he knows I’m just so… bland. I’m average height, plain black hair, boring brown eyes, and nothing too exceptional about my character. -But for some reason, he saw something more. I doubt how much he loves me when he’s not around, but there is just one little spot in my heart that knows it’s true. Part of me trusts my life in him.

He is the most handsome man I’ve ever met. Perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect eyes; he just seems so infallible, so perfectly crafted. Like God created man in this image, but none could compare to the original. He is sweet and sexy, with charm and humor. His existence gives the world it’s meaning. Now I know this might seem rather "grand." But I met the perfect man for me, I met my perfect match. I would give my soul to have him near me. I adore this man.

He is, in a way, like a storm. Power that puts the humility in any man, but an untamed beauty, sweeping over all it meets, then disappearing. When he leaves, I am just a nameless face in a sea of people. But when he’s with me, I’m a queen on my throne, he is my king.

And all at once it hits me; I want to spend my life with him. For me to be truly happy all it takes is him. To spend forever with him, it’s just enough.