She cries because no guy “gets” her. She calls you for hours to tell you her problems and how she wishes she could find a nice guy like you to fall in love with. She comes over to your apartment with ice cream and some rented DVD to watch movies and “cuddle” on the couch with you. You are everything she’s always complaining about wanting in a boyfriend. You listen to her and can actually quote back whole sentences of what she’s said. You know her favorite color, book, food, movie, and childhood memory. You could, without hesitation, plan out the most romantic, seductive date to take her on simply because you know exactly what turns her on and what she wants in “the perfect night”. You are allowed to stroke her hair, pat her back, even occasionally hold her hand and “accidentally” brush her **** more than once as you’re reaching for the remote. And once, in a moment of weakness, she made out with you and then afterward forced you to agree it was a mistake and should never happen again. Are you the man of her dreams? No, you are her friend.
Posted on: Tue, 22 Oct 2013 22:37:07 +0000
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