Let's say, hypothetically,you meet a guy.
He is not only good looking, he wears shalwar kameez. You love a man in shalwar kameez.
He smells amazing. The kind of amazing that can inebriate you from a mile away; sort of like the Axe effect, but much less crass.
He thinks you're heaven-sent (quoted).
He laughs at all your lame jokes (your jokes are very lame) and his leave you in stitches.
He thinks you're all sorts of beautiful, but he doesn't underestimate your intelligence.
He loves dancing; you can dance all day, all night long. Sometimes, you don't even need music.
The way he looks at you, you have no doubts that you're the only person he sees; the world is inconsequential. You know how he feels because you feel that way about chocolate; he gets the same look in his eyes you get when you're eating chocolate; dreamy, like you can't believe there can be something this perfect in a world this damaged.
He writes you poetry. No one has written poetry for you before. The content doesn't even matter. It's still sweet.
When you're with him, it is as though he is your planet and you are his sun.
His smile is priceless. His smile wins every single time.
You know him inside out; not a single second of his life is unknown to you. Which is kind of corny, but who the fuck cares. He talks and you listen.
He even thinks out loud before he is about to make a move.
Such a good kisser; sweet yet dark.
He even found you a song.
But he isn't the one you want.