My man should be a man, but with the soul, the energy, the desires and the expectations of a boy.
Or he should be a boy, but with the courage and confidence of a man.
My man should be strong, but gentle, knowing how to protect me as well as pamper me, how to listen as well as set me back on the right path when I lose my way.
Because I do lose my way.
And I would want my man to point me toward the path I was forgetting.
My man should be tall, but not too tall, so I can climb up to kiss him whenever I feel like it…and he doesn't.
My man should be tender, romantic, but hate sappiness just as much as I do.
Understanding, but uncompromising.
Intelligent.
My man should be genuinely interested in what I say and what I do, not just to get me into bed.
He should love me almost more for my passions than for anything else.
He should hang on my every word and lose his head over me when I tell him about my ideas, and bring his energy and contribution to them simply for the pleasure of doing so.
As though it were sex, and the product of our work a child.
Because he is my man, and the energy born when we are together cannot help but bear fruit.
That is what I want.
No more compromises.