My idea of the most attentive, thoughtful, heartbreakingly wonderful boyfriend is simply him, coming around to surprise me with little cute gifts every now and then just because I came by his mind, or take the wind out of my sails with an indoor picnic, a basket full of goodies we love when I am on deadlines and entering high-stress zone, runs out to pick up breakfast before I wake up and would even trek all the way over from Brooklyn to Manhattan (if thats where him and I both stay next time) with my gorgeous Marc by Marc Jacob's handbag and keys I had left at his apartment as well as a major bunking-friendly-pizza over at his when I lock myself out of my place at 3am. The best I'd reckon is if I've managed to drink a little to much of Bloody Mary/Blowjob/Sex on Beach, he gladly holds up my hair back while I busily throw up. Outside a very posh restaurant. With everyone staring. On his shoes.
And to be rewarded the title Best Boyfriend Ever, he, Mr.Non-Existence, will be beside me, spooning from behind on his soft leather couch, watching Gossip Girl Season 3 whilst friends of his insist that he should be out snorting coke out of hot blondies belly buttons. And in the morning, I would be waking up looking like the most disgusting inmate with hair sticking out from every part of my head, a hint of morning-delicious-breath, face virgin of layers upon layers of those magical wonderful BB cream that covers every loopholes possible, yet he could still set his perfect gaze on me like I am looking even better than the sex-goddess Megan Foxx / Jessica Alba / even Marion Caunter.
<3
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