Don’t ask me about my family, how I grew up and why I don’t like bell peppers on my pizza. Don’t give me the impression that one day, you magically decided to visit my Facebook page and go over the things I like. Don’t give me silver linings; they make me write an entire blog entry out of sheer emotional masturbation.
Don’t laugh at my jokes. Conveniently ignore me whenever you like it, and then reply to my messages ten days after I’ve sent them. Continue involuntarily giving me clues about yourself, but give me generic responses whenever I deliberately attempt to fish for vital information and probe deeper into your subconscious.
“Dorks are kind of cute, right? I mean, they have this air around them, this certain appeal.”
“Huh? A dork is a socially inept person, or one who is out of touch with contemporary trends. That’s what Wikipedia said. Wait, are you gay?”
Right, be just like that. Don’t make me feel secure. Make me question my own appearance, rethink my chances of going out on a date with you and why I should start having an existential crisis. Give me this impression that you’re only reserved for the best, and that you have no business talking to me about our favorite Pokemons and why Pikachu should not evolve to Raichu. Avoid opportunities where an intimate conversation between the both of us is possible. We can’t be close to each other; at one point I will be able to find out your imperfections and that will spell the end of this daydream which I willingly submit myself into.
Be a walking propaganda of perfection, deliberately hide your weaknesses and be this magic ball of eternal interestingness. Please continue being indecipherably mysterious until I decide that I’m no longer interested in stalking you every time I get the chance to. Kindly exhaust all available efforts to avoid getting demystified. You have this halo effect; wallow in it. Don’t tell me stories about your dead toenail and why sometimes it’s perfectly fine for you to brush your teeth only once a day. Don’t make jokes about the smell of your fart and the color of your crap; that is an indication of closeness and with closeness comes honesty, intimacy and the opening up of doors that will lead to your demystification.
It’s painful to discover that the person you get head over heels for has unforgivable flaws, so please be considerate. In a world where shattered preconceptions are almost as hurtful as unrequited love, be the beacon of hope for the romantically insane. Prove to me that amid a sea of mere phonies and wannabes, someone can be perfect and ideal.