These are the traits that make a perfect man:
-He wants to spend his life with me. No questions, no 'I'm not sure how I'll feel in the future,' just surety. Obv the perfect man wouldn't settle for any woman OTHER than me. Duh.
- Blue eyes. Or asian.
-5'10-6'4.
-Lean muscles. I don't like muscle men. Gross. Too much for me. But I do like to see every muscle bend and move. The Perfect Man has one of those statuesque figures that make me drool. Hockey players to soccer players to lacrosse to martial arts type figure.
-Minimal nasty body hair!! The P.M. is either naturally hairless or manscapes.
-Perfect teeth. The P.M. has probably worn braces.
-Dimples. I don't know what it is, but I melt.
-Smooth skin. Not feminine, rough hands is okay, but no dry hands or elbows etc.
-No facial hair. When we kiss, I don't want to catch your leftover dinner.
-Ph.D.
-Comes from money (what?! We're talking PERFECT here, as in IDEAL. as the title says, it's in my head.)
-Showers me with gifts. That doesn't mean money, he could pick me flowers on his way over, or write me a love letter.
-Always tells me how great I am. "I love your laugh" "You're so clever" "beautiful" etc. I have no self confidence and need to hear it.
-Since I'm totally fantasizing now, how 'bout an accent? I like Irish, Scottish...
-fluent in several languages.
-Adventurer. I want someone to travel the world with.
-Likes dogs over cats.
-Dresses well (no gangsta crap)
-good hygiene
-very patient with my antics
-will read me stories
-thinks I'm funny
-Makes me laugh and cry and have fun and be me.
-Brings out the best in me.
-Can talk to for hours
-Can sit without talking for hours.
-Not a fighter, but will fight for me.
-Good debates
-Gives me butterflies in my stomach
-Treats me like I'm important.
-Holds me when I'm sick, even though he might get sick too.
-Lets me dote on him.
-Doesn't do my laundry (aka then my nice stuff won't shrink.)
-Kills spiders.
-Thinks I'm beautiful even when I cry or have a cold and my face is swollen.
-When it comes to engagement, believes that Cartier is right: love has a colour and a name. =D
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