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You used to say our love was the stuff love stories were made of …I believe you now.

He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had.

– Bob Marley

The imperfect man…

He loves animals, especially dogs.

He likes going shopping with me so I don’t have to go alone.

He loves cars and bikes; and can fix and take care of my car and appreciate my love for it as if it was his own.

He has a unique but corny, goofball sense of humour that I always get.

When he gets serious, he leaves me stunned and in awe.

He’s respectful.

He opens doors for me. He knows what chivalry is.

His broken life story inspires complete understanding and admiration in me.

He can crack me up and make me laugh even when I’m really pissed off.

He has a laugh than I can recognise from miles. And each time, it makes me smile too.

He has his own set principles from which he does not falter.

He’s loyal to me.

When he makes mistakes, he has the best apologies that make me melt.

When he feels, he feels to the extreme.

His voice calms me.

He looks to me for comfort no matter what.

He’s protective.

He’ll come running to my rescue.

He’s possessive.

He knows my little quirks better than anyone; he knows how to make me happy.

He looks into my eyes and his own light up as if he was just handed a miracle.

The thought of him makes me smile as if I’m the happiest person alive.

He’s a hopeless romantic.

His temper, which no one else can control, simmers down with one comforting touch of my hand on his forearm.

His shoulders are wide and arms long enough so that when we hug, his arms can surround me completely.

The veins on his built forearms are apparent and he enjoys when I trace them in fascination.

He shares his thoughts and fears with me as a true and equal partner.

He’s sweet and kind.

Every time we see each other, we both end up naturally smiling the biggest smiles.

We can spend hours and hours together. And when it’s time to part ways, all those hours are never enough.

The hellos are always as happy as the goodbyes are difficult.

He massages my feet even when I don’t ask.

Only I can love him exactly the way he needs.

He’s loving.

He motivates me, supports me and even tutors me when I’m lost and afraid.

He falls asleep in my lap, drools, and later gets embarrassed when I poke fun.

He wears Polos and buttoned shirts. He always folds full sleeves up to three-quarters.

When we have to go somewhere and I whine about having nothing to wear, he gives me ideas and helps me pick something out.

He likes spring mattresses.

He likes teaching me little factoids about anything and everything new he learns.

Him and I never run out of things to talk about or do.

He makes traditions with me (like birthday traditions).

He can fall asleep on the phone with me and me with him, no one else.

We watch shows and movies together, always enjoying each other’s interests.

He has the perfect ears to play with.

He’s willing to run out and get the latest in my random cravings for dessert.

He shares my love of food.

He can cook and loves to make me pancakes, french omelettes and burgers.

Only I can take care of him the way he needs. He trusts me to know how.

He knows the perfect way to dabaofy and what I mean when I say that.

He calls me by a name only he and no one else ever does or will.

He has the Angel forehead.

We fit as if we were made for each other.

He has puppy-dog eyes that makes me melt.

He crumbles at my touch as I do his.

He smells like a mixture of Bvlgari Aqua and himself. His scent is intoxicating to me.

He can recognize my scent with his eyes closed.

He is generous with me.

He’s just the right height so that every time we kiss, I stand on my tip-toes.

He feels my pain; as I feel his.

He is my soulmate.

That’s what we do, we fight! You tell me when I’m being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you’re being a pain in the ass, which you are 99% of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate and your back doing the next pain in the ass thing. So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard and we’re gonna have to work at this everyday. But I wanna do that because I want you, I want all of you, forever, you and me, everyday.

-Noah, The Notebook