I hope he is rad enough to make love to me blasting Peaches sometimes.

I hope he loves lingerie

I hope he is dark & handsome

I hope his love & passion for God astounds me

I hope his passion for me makes me blush

I hope he has a quiet guardedness that makes it clear only I may have certain pieces of him.

I hope he loves my dreams even more than I do

I hope he thinks soft tummies are hotter than toned ones

I hope he likes dressing up

I hope he likes weird baby names

I hope he thinks I look hot when I’m pregnant

I hope he guards me from shame

I hope he has rough hands

I hope he collects vintage hot rods

I hope he mixes business with pleasure

I hope he has incredible guy friends

I hope every movie star he finds hot strangely reminds him of me

I hope he thinks what annoys me about myself is endearing

I hope he’s sowed his wild oats & realized what in life is truly joyful

I hope he delights in my love

I hope he says the sweetest things when no one else can hear

I hope he plays an instrument with reckless abandon

I hope he’s so assured people mistake it for snobiness

I hope he has that walk I love

I hope is back is square

I hope he looks gorgeous in a tux

I hope he rolls his eyes when I’m corny

I hope he thinks our dating daughter should be guarded with a shotgun

I hope he thinks sports on TV are lame

I hope he loves seeing shows

I hope he likes dive bars

I hope he has tattoos

I hope he used to smoke cigs, & sneaks them sometimes

I hope he drinks guiness

I hope he wants to travel the world

I hope he owns a big dog or two

I hope he loves taking showers with me

I hope he knows how to fix things

I hope he thinks every guy I’ve dated is a prick, & he proves it

Is it just the Sigor Ros, or does having lunch with my favorite ex make me sad? He’s so darn cute, endearing, honest, corny, & driven. As I sat across from him, watching tuna fall to his plate, hearing about his pretty girlfriend I didn’t despise a thing about her. She sounds positively lovely & true.

Yet, insecurities begin to flood my mind. What is with me? Is her blonde hair wavier mine? Are her blue eyes sparklier? Is it her simpler style? Are her lips softer? Are her aspirations grander?

After a bit I realize the world doesn’t revolve around me. This boy’s choices don’t reflect me or what I need to change or remain… She is just pretty wonderful her and she is just what he wants right now.

I hope they have wonderful days, laughter-filled nights & I hope her hand fits better in his than mine did…

Why does my little heart beat all the faster if I picture their kisses?

 by Steve Hiett

Move on to a boy who thinks I suit him just fine. A man who makes me want to be a better me, but not insecurely…simply to be a brighter, prettier version of the me I know. I want him to expand my view on life, on being a woman, on being sexy, & on being free…