This guy, he likes me. He says sweet stuff to me, and he texts me every morning. He’s tall and he’s nice, light skinned, well-built, dresses nicely, speaks very good English with the hint of a British accent. He smells nice, he says the right things. And he likes the things I like. He can relate to the things I find funny. He even knows how to adjust to my mood swings. He’s there when he has to be, he leaves when he isn’t wanted. He’s patient, he takes his time, he hardly gets angry. He’s not a pushover though, he has a little ego but then that’s what makes this all fun, right? He’s my arm candy, all the girls like him, but it’s me he wants.
This guy, he’s perfect for me. Everyone says it, and I know it.
So I can’t understand why I don’t like him as much as he likes me.