One day, I stumbled upon my old diary from way back when I was a schoolgirl. I was merely expecting a nostalgic feeling when I decided to read the book that used to be my most prized possession. Instead, the time-traveling trip ended up leaving me thinking of how much I have changed in the past decades.
I went through the pages of my diary and found a particular spot where I wrote down my dreams and fantasies about the one man who will be the future for me. And just like most girls, I described this man to be unrealistically perfect. He was supposed to be tall, dark and handsome with pearly white smiles, I also expected him to be super romantic and sensitive. He will never make me sad and showers me with compliments and flowers every single day.
If only the schoolgirl-me knew the kind of man I eventually went for, she wouldn't believe it. This man is far from perfect, but I have this weird feeling that he might be the perfect one for me. And how would I know? Well, he has long working hours, with endless meetings and tasks to handle, so there's no way I can expect to see him everyday or text him all day long. He warned me right from the beginning, and I agreed to be considerate. But still there were several arguments about the time issue, how I felt like I was on the bottom of his priority list because of his work. The girl in my diary would expect him to promise in making me his number one priority and ditch everything else in his life. But he didn't do that, he never promises things, instead he would spontaneously take me out for a movie date on Wednesday after work or send me the kiss emoticon in the middle of the day. He even agrees to take a break and travel to a new place at least once a year. I finally understand that I can't control all of his time management, but it warms my heart to see that even though he is super busy, he is fully aware that time is the most precious gift for your loved ones because time is something you give and you can't take back.
This man is not the romantic type, at all. He possesses no skill of sweet-talking or other grand gestures that you can find in a romance novel with Fabio on the cover. It is just not his way of saying he loves me. He says that he loves me by taking care of my father when he was ill and I was out of town and how he took an hour of bus ride to go to my house every weekend after he sold his beloved car. It was kind of hard to let go of my dreams of being proposed on the beach with him on his knee and flashes out a giant diamond ring, but I think his full dedication for our relationship is exactly what I need, rather than some girlish imagination.
There's also a time when I found every thing that he does is annoying and irritating. Like how he has the dangerous habit of texting and driving, or couldn't make up his mind for what he wants for dinner. He makes fun of the shoes that I love because he thinks it is funny looking and gives a nickname to my nose, which is not my favorite body part. But he does it because he knows I can handle it. He believes in my confidence and sense of humor. In order to have an equal position, he accepts me for who I really am as well. He takes me for being my forgetful self who takes hours to get dressed, bad at doing laundry and good at breaking electronic gadgets. There's absolutely zero need for being perfect in this relationship, we love each other no matter what. This kind of commitment don't give me such exhaustion like my previous relationships with the so-called perfect boys. It is exciting, it never fails to surprise me and I have never felt so special and loved. I finally know what love actually is.