In which I expose my silly, idealistic side.

He would be well-read. I would like to be able to talk about books with him as if they are people.

He would keep books in his room.

He would be informed and he would have an opinion on world events. He would vote. He would be liberal (I hate to be that person but… I just cannot see myself with an extreme conservative).

He would have taste — my issue with taste, though, is that “good” taste is often just similar taste. But I’m okay with that.

People with taste are often snobs. He would not be a snob. He would understand and accept the concept of guilty pleasures. He would appreciate nostalgia.

He would be sincere. He would say what is on his mind without holding back or playing games.

He would live with passion. He would know what he wants to do with his life. He would not go through life aimless and apathetic about his future.

He would not take anything for granted. He would study and he would work hard to make his own money. He would let me pay sometimes.

He would use good grammar online and in text messages.

He would be governed by his own standards of conduct and aesthetics.

He would wake up before noon on weekends.

He would read my blog.

He would fold his clothes.

He would give me space. He would understand my need for independence and he would not freak out when I needed time to myself.

We would run together.

He would not roll his eyes at the TV shows I watch.

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