I want someone to sing to me.
I want them to sing with love-infused voices, melodies full of cliches. Like Yellow. Or More Than Words. Or Deep Inside Of You. Or Iris. Or even *blush* Your Body Is A Wonderland.
And they can't just end with singing to me either. They have to really mean what they're saying. They have to think that this song, by this artist, was written just about me, about us and they are the only people to think that way. I want someone to serenade me, and if he has a bad voice, he can settle for just playing the song and turning to me and saying, "I always think of you when I hear this."
I want a Cosmo ad relationship.
I want to be part of the kind of couple who wear fisherman's sweaters and cup each other's faces. The kind that laugh really loudly on a fancy red leather sofa. Or have perfect hands entwined, with diamonds. Or wash each other's hair, our golden retriever looking bemused in the background.
I want someone to go to a party with.
I want to go to the party together, even if we don't spend the entire evening joined at the hip. I want to be able to look across a crowded room and see him and feel happy. I want someone to feel the same way. And at the end of the party, or when I get tired or very drunk, I want someone to put their arm around my waist and say, "Let's go home." And I want it to be one home--mine and his.
I want someone to travel with.
I want to be able to look like intrepid backpackers---tired, but sharing a cigarette, stopping off at small tea stalls on our way up to the hills to drink steaming hot cups of tea. I want to walk with them in the mountains, or dabble toes with them in the sea. I want exotic evenings with candlelight and fancy food and I want a plush hotel room, or a cheap one, with a big bed and I want to be able to cuddle with someone and go to sleep.
I want someone to do the crossword with.
I want to sit across him in a coffee shop and do the crossword. I want for him to always have a pen. I want to get excited about getting the word right. I want to be able to debate fiercely about the clues. And when we do solve the whole thing, I want someone to be happy with, someone to hug or say, "All right!" and I want for us to exit, arm in arm, like shiny happy people.
I want a cliche.