Shopping List for Love

There are lust-inducing men. And there are lust-inducing, raging hormonal overdrive inducing men.

And then there is a Richard Castle.

I realized that if I am ever dumb/blind/drunk/all enough to get married, it’d be someone like Castle-someone with a decent body, a cute face, an adorable smile and a rakish take-it-or-leave-it charm. But someone fun. Tricky. Interesting. Witty. With a sense of humor to kill for. Also with an edge and a subtle hint of sarcasm sardonic amusement when he speaks (albeit not untimely and misplaced). Someone who’s not a pretentious know-it-all jackass but is open to new ideas and suggestions. Someone creative, someone who can think his own thoughts and make you think. Someone who’d listen and not just pretend to care, but will actually care. Someone who’d not diss my love for superhero comics and science fiction as a means to satisfy my need for relationship (what need? In all my life, of all I coolest things I could ever want or need, I have never yet felt a need per se for relationships, occasional phases of insanity notwithstanding. And V, are you listening?) Someone who has a fantastic imagination and who’d fully understand why I must keep a lightsabre at home and will occasionally dress up as Darth Vader and fight an imaginary Obi Wan and not constantly remind that I am pushing 38 and maybe I need some help dealing with it.  He should have a pleasant easy-going personality but would also know when to stop being sweet and be strict and firm. He would understand why I would be depressed for days when Harry Osbourne dies or Anakin transforms to Lord Vader and that only 100 % genuine kind and understanding words will cheer me up. Or why I would be insanely happy to see action figures carved on my birthday cake. Or that sometimes I’d be needing a lot of space, so that I can just crawl into my favorite spot in the house and read.

He’d not be judgmental, snooty, snarky, morally uptight, noble with easily wounded pride and self-righteous (ugh!) or he can show himself out. He’d be funny but will know where to draw the line and thus not appear to be a total jackass. He’d not be a wimp and will know how to give it right back to someone who deserves it but oh so subtly! He will not be a picture of winged and haloed perfection and will not make any such promise either ( as we all know, what comes out of that). He is allowed to screw up but should be able to admit his mistakes without any hesitation regarding tight arsed ego problems. He will be there. Always. Be uncomplicated, kind, sympathetic, pat and have my back. And at least try to take care of me and the people around. And will be honest. So honest that it might as well set my teeth on edge sometimes. But I can live with that.

So there. I just made a shopping list for love. My idea of a The One can be someone who lives in… well… I am guessing Narnia or the likes, for all I care. But if for, one single, illogical, irrational moment of a momentary lapse of reason, I were to imagine myself taking the leap with someone, it had to be someone like Castle. You can keep all the Barneys, the Charlies, the Danny McCoys, the Jeff Wingers, Michael Scoffields, Michael Westens in the world, ladies. *I* call dibs on Richard Castle.


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