• He’s in my mind. I can imagine him perfectly. His perfectly flawed image. Gorgeous blue eyes underneath light brown eyebrows with a scar from a removed piercing over his left eye. A wonderfully shaped nose, except for the faint traces of breakage from the past. Beautifully shaped lips; lush, yet not too big for his face. Brown hair long enough to be spiked up on top and somewhat long sideburns just above the bottom of his ears. He stands somewhere between 5’10” and 5’11” with a finely tanned and toned body with a few tattoos on his arms and across the top of his back. He’s removed the earrings from his ears as well, leaving only the bolt in his tongue remaining. His fingers no longer looked crooked after breaking each one and finally healing back, but they were guitarist’s hands. Calluses on his fingers and not entirely smooth to the touch.
    Just one smile from him will melt away all the sadness from your mind. And the music behind it can make an angel cry.
    A melancholy way of thinking and an urge to do everything he shouldn’t. A bad boy on the outside but the sweetest human being on earth behind closed doors, but he never shows this to his friends, or better yet, his acquaintances. His really good friends know everything about him. He’s not afraid to cry in front of me either. It takes a lot to make him cry, but he has been pushed to that limit before.
    He treats me like a queen. He’ll literally do anything for me, even die for me if, god forbid, the time ever came. He loves me with all his heart and he never wants to have to even try to live without me. But it’s not like a psychopathic way of thinking.
    If something were to ever happen to me and I was no longer with him, he wouldn’t commit suicide. No, by no means, though he had tried before he met me, but his cause of death would be unknown. Just maybe giving up on life, or maybe a broken heart, but you can’t really write that on an autopsy report.
    I’ve never felt so happy. He gives my life meaning. I’m never sad when I’m with him or when I think about him. Never sad, just wish that I wasn’t ever away from him.
    It’s such a shame though; this perfectly flawed man of mine has no name. No life, no existence. I can only visit this great person in my mind, where he’s been for years. But I’m not crazy, not at all. Just your average girl, wanting what every girl wants at some point in their life: the dream guy.