my best friend and i have a joke about a man being able to kill a bear. a simple metaphor for the kind of love we want to have.
there was never a doubt in my mind that walter not only would kill that bear but he'd gut it and make a throw rug out of its hid too. why this didn't translate into me unquestioningly knowing he loved me beyond a shadow of a doubt i don't know.
but with him i was only slightly sure he adored me.
BUT he was a man. a curly gray headed man. with a man's body. and a man's clothes. and a man's swagger. and it didn't matter i only halfway knew because HE WAS A MAN.
the musician? not so much internet.
more of an indie rock kind of BOY (and yes i realize he's 7 years older than me shut up).
and i love indie rock boys internet. i do. they get me all hot and bothered. because seriously a good tight t-shirt with dark jeans and colored tennis shoes. yum.
when i was with THE MAN who wore button downs and khakis i lusted after men like the musician. i drooled over them. i desperately wanted THE MAN (apparently walter's new psedonym) to trade in his tie for a band button. because OH MY GOD.
but you guessed it internet, now that i have one on my arm i'd do anything to trade him in for a suit wearing MAN.
it's a battle between the aidans and the mr. bigs of the world really. and as much as i'd like to lay claim to my arty girl's counterpart i can't hide the fact that it's really mr. big who does it for me.
my indie rock desire just a school girl fantasy.
an itch that once scratched doesn't itch anymore.
because that metaphor really is true. i want the bear dead not waxed poetic about through song.
and besides that, who really wants to compete in a relationship for hippest dressed?
-the paper doll always wants to have her cake and eat it too
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