You know who I’m talking about. That dreamy guy who checks all your boxes: cute, funny, smart, with that lock of hair that falls over his forehead whenever he looks away bashfully. Doesn’t it make your heart flutter when that happens? You just want to take a pair of rusty garden shears and lop that hair right off–maybe the scalp, too–and keep it as a memento in your closet.
Ever since your love-at-first-sight moment in chem class, when you spotted Mr. Perfect seated a mere thirteen seats away, scratching his ear (swoon), looking attentively at the professor (he’s so beautiful), and even chewing on a mechanical pencil eraser (must have spilled my coffee, my seat’s a bit sticky), you knew he was The One. After sitting next to him for three weeks in a row, and “accidentally” in his lap four times (“oops!”), you’re positive that he feels it too. He let you borrow his pencil once, and the way he handed it to you was an obvious imitation of sliding on a wedding ring.
Like any good couple, you keep each other in check. When he missed class, you called him (having blackmailed his friends for his number), and urged that he come, for the sake of his education. His response to your reasonable “How dare you abandon me like this?” was “Wait, are you that creepy girl that tries to sit on me?” He already has a pet name for you! Incidentally, “That creepy girl” is now tattooed in your every bodily crevice, in a font modeled after his handwriting.
The basis of every strong relationship is communication, but it’s difficult when your fiance likes to act coy. His response to your 324 (his birthday is on March 24th) daily messages is the occasional “I blocked you, how are you unblocking yourself?” or “Please leave me alone. I can’t sleep. I got a lawyer.” He can’t sleep because he’s too busy fantasizing about you? He’s so deviously flirtatious, it makes you blush. You love it though.
As with Romeo and Juliet, you must overcome obstacles to love, including human life. His facetious “Stop trying to touch me, please. I have a girlfriend,” was funny and all (he has a quirky sense of humor) but, of course, precautions were taken. Some vicious female parasite was sucking away his time and energy, assaulting him by seizing his hand, even molesting his cheek with her lips! Whenever Mr. Perfect seemed to acquiesce, however reluctantly, to her poisonous touch, you activated his shock collar (a little classical conditioning never hurt anybody). She had to go. Along with all the other toxic women in his life. You never really wanted a mother-in-law.
It was for your own sake, my dear sweet Landon! Come visit me at the Durham County Detention Facility. I’m waiting. <3
