I had some tea last night and suffered from insomnia until day break. My eyes were wide open in the dark and my brain was more active than ever. I went through everything I need to do for work, looked through the list of best books from 2000 - 2014, and even searched for creative washroom signs. Then my mind wandered to memories - the finished and unfinished stories of my life. I thought about the friends I met in all the cities I resided in, how we ran into each other and how we lost touch. I thought about the men I shared those typical dinner-dessert-movie dates with, the cheesy things they said and the cute gestures they made. I thought about how my past relationships went and ended - how the things used to sting my heart so much before just float in the flashback like pieces of irrelevant information now. My night felt longer than Mondays. I went over my entire life in my head, then stopped at the only thing that made me smiled inadvertently - you.
After a billion toss and turns, I flipped over and hugged my body pillow the way I'd hug you, finally settled, I found myself still smiling at my thought of you : how awkwardly adorably uncool you are.
I have to say I do have a type. I don't know about now, but I was attracted to the cool guys, like the T-Birds in Grease (and recently, after some matured readjustment, John Wick). We established the other day that you are not the cool type. You're more the, "Frank is cool, I like him" cool, and not the, "emotionless, cold, but undeniably charming" cool. I've never thought about this, really, because I always just assumed you are my type, but it just clicked for me that, you are not *shocker
When I picture you, I can only see that silly smile of yours, and yourawkward adorable shyness when I tease. So what made me smile last night was when I remembered these moments when you held up two fingers moving to and from your lips, gesturing a "smoking a cigarette" action. You do that sometimes as a joke when the situation seem appropriate to have a smoke. You action it in such an armature way that it is overwhelmingly obvious that your muscle memory has absolutely no clue about what you are trying to do. I find this SHO CUTE.
I have to say I do have a type. I don't know about now, but I was attracted to the cool guys, like the T-Birds in Grease (and recently, after some matured readjustment, John Wick). We established the other day that you are not the cool type. You're more the, "Frank is cool, I like him" cool, and not the, "emotionless, cold, but undeniably charming" cool. I've never thought about this, really, because I always just assumed you are my type, but it just clicked for me that, you are not *shocker
When I picture you, I can only see that silly smile of yours, and your
You are so not cool. But I guess I am no longer falling for an image I molded from chick flicks and romance novels, but for you.
I finally fell asleep at the break of dawn laughing at you in my head, then woke up looking forward to spending a day with you picnic by the mountain lake. You make my life beautiful, my awkwardly uncool you :)
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Thank you :)