You're Not a Kind of Guy I Wanted.

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted.

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You don’t read book. I wanted my guy could spend whole day with me strolling around in a bookstore. Choosing our favorite books and talk about it while shipping our fresh brewed coffee. 

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You eat very healthy. Geez, I love fried food. I love eating chicken wings, I love eating fish chips. And I love everything sweet like milk tea and cheesecake. 

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You don’t speak romantic. I wished my guy wrote me cheesy poem and read it for me as a bedtime story. Or maybe surprises me with a bucket of roses in the morning, tells me that I am loved. 

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You don’t play piano. I was once dreaming about me and my guy, spend whole night together in an old music class room (just like in Secret!). I wanted my guy plays lullaby for me every night. 

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You own that muscular chest. I was always afraid about a guy who owns that bulky body. Like he is ready to punch me anytime or I would be disappeared by standing beside him.

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted.

You don’t read book. But one time I finally published my first book, you actually bought it, spent like three days until finished it, tell everyone about it and can’t stop brag about how cool I am writing a book in front of your friends. And also you never complain when take me to the bookstore. You even choose me a book that talks about healthy diet, which is probably I need. 

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You eat very healthy. Because you ever said to me that you want to live longer and spend the rest of your life with me. And I remembered one time you bought a huge cheesecake at night when we walked down the city, we ended up eat the whole cake and you were happy. Me happy too.

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You don’t speak romantic. But once you surprised me a lot of stuffed flowers on my birthday. And it doesn’t matter for you how tired you are in a day, you still call me with that sleepy voice (and cute!), make sure I sleep early and say me a good night word, have a sweet dream. 

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You don’t play piano. You play your guitar, instead. Once we had a Sunday Service together, we didn’t care about playing different chords, since together we praised Him, together we worshiped Him. That’s more than enough. 

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. You own that muscular chest. So that makes me feel safe whenever I’m around you. And I know where I will go when I’m feeling upset. I’ll drown my face, then find my face will be damped with all the tears, and make your shirt wet. That time, you’ll just hug me tightly until my tears stop.

You’re not a kind of guy I wanted. 

But God knows me even better than I know myself. He sent me you, so that I am always thankful, because I have the guy that I need.

I love you. See you next year in October. 

(: