He'll fight with me, tease me, but smile at me and kiss me in the end.
He will live with me, but will, occasionally, go to bed mad.
He will never sleep on the couch.
He will cook me dinner when I get home, because, lets face it,
He does not want to eat my charred mush.
He will never understand some parts of my life.
I will frustrate, amaze, confuse, dazzle, stun, craze,
Drive-him-to-drink, light his passion, and emotionally punch him in the face.
He will race my 90-mile and hour mind and will, on occasion, win.
He will be so angry with me.
He will take me seriously, even when I run down the street
In a sundress with his favorite hat so he chases me
Like a child,
And even when I'm naked in our bed staring at him over the pillow.
He will be fucking me for my mind.
He will be dark haired, tall, smooth in the skin,
With the complexion of a model and the body of a Greek.
He will not look like what I imagine.
He will be jealous, but not possessive.
He is a Man, not a boy who likes to play pretend.
He will NEVER fuck me like I am a toy,
But it'll still be the best I have ever had.

The perfect boyfriend is not perfect.

He will see me like a quilt,
Made of a zillion little pieces, not all of them pleasing,
But he will love that blanket.
It will cover him in the cold night,
It will comfort him when he misses home,
He will wrap it around his children to hide them
From the monsters under their bed before he tucks them in.
Just like my Daddy did for me.
He will pick and fray the edges of each patch,
Picking and picking and picking and picking,
Till all of my weaknesses are opened,
And I have come undone.
He will sit down, and take that quilt in his lap,
And he will sew me up.
He will sit there, and sit there, and sit there.
For as long as it takes to complete me again.
And ya'll know, I could do it myself.
But I like it more when he do it.

The perfect boyfriend is not perfect.

He will get me flowers just cause he wanted to,
But he won't always buy them.
He will look at everything I write and call it 'art',
But he won't always call it good.
He will speak with conviction,
But he might not know what he's talking about.
He will take me out to fancy dinners,
And if he checks out the waitress, you can be damn certain,
I'm looking too, cause my man has good taste.
He has eyes that tell me everything I want to hear,
Even as his mouth calls me a bad name.
He will be hurt by my words.
Because he knows that opening himself to me is
The best gift he could ever give me.
He will say my name, all of it,
Because even if I hate it, he thinks it's beautiful.
And even if I hate me he still thinks I'm beautiful.

The perfect boyfriend is not perfect.

He will, at 2 AM, continue to fight with me,
Cause we're still too angry to go to bed.
He will understand that I REBEL against a stress-free environment.
He will have the guts to tell me that I am doing it wrong.
He knows that nothing is important enough to stop a kiss.
He will always hate that a small part of me will resent trusting him.
He won't need photographs to remember our time together.
The chemistry between us would destroy this place!

He will be passionate,
He will admire me,
And he will respect me!
And it's like William Wharton said, man.
If you have all three, you don't need to die to go to heaven.