This may sound like bullshit to a load of people, but I’m saying this from the heart. I like fancy cars, branded bags, designer clothes, expensive jewellery and so on so forth. I like appreciating the materialism of what the modern day society has provided us. I do not deny the fact, I’m pretty much the typical materialistic uptown girl.

That said, what can makes me happy is a different story altogether.

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Photo credit: stickmaninlove.wordpress.com

I smile just seeing you approaching.
I giggle at the little silly things you say or possibly do.
I enjoy the company and conversations regardless the topic.
I love just knowing you love me too.

When I’m upset, peanut butter or chocolate waffles cheers me up.
When I’m stressed, holding my hands and telling me we’ll go through this together, gives me comfort.
When I’m crying, a hug and/or a kiss drys my tears.
When I’m angry, giving me some space and after a while cracking some lame joke eases the tension.

The perfect gift isn’t how pricey it is. The perfect gift is the thought and effort that counts. I’d love the latest gadget, I truly would, but I’d love the little scrapbook you put together just as much or perhaps even a little bit more. I’d go for the teddybear instead of a diamond necklace or bracelet. I’d go for the opportunity to spend a little more time, than another piece from so-and-so’s latest collection.

Everything is pretty much relative, really. No doubt the ability to spend like no tomorrow would be nice, but if tomorrow meant losing today, I’d rather not be spending at all.

I’ve always wanted to find a guy I love and loves me back just as much. A guy that would dote me, watch over me, protect me from harm. A guy that would never hurt me no matter what, never betray me regardless (well… maybe bitching a little behind my back, sometimes).

After a day’s work, I’d fix up dinner, we’d dine, then cuddle up on the couch to watch television. We’d critic the poorly put together plot, the many possible alternative outcomes available, then finally, clear the table together and wash the damn plates and whatsoever.

From time to time, we’d go for a short trip, explore the world, just you and me (or perhaps with some friends on the side).

It’s really a pretty picture, if you think about it. The fundamentals are pretty simplistic, routine, but because we’re who we are (or rather I am who I am, ever-changing, never constant), each day would be an experience; something fresh, something different.

Even the most unexpected two individuals could fall in love…

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Why can’t I do the same?

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