He was like something out of a movie. Prince Charming almost. For most girls, he would have been a dream come true. But for me, his faultlessness became annoyingly boring and I started to despise him.
Mr X was lovely. Yes, lovely. A term I would rather not use for a male, but he was indeed lovely. A true gentleman and one of a kind. He would open the car door for me, helping me out. He would ask me a few days, even a week in advance to go out together, so he could make a booking at whichever restaurant I wanted to go to. I liked that. He was organised and well-mannered.
He would dress elegantly and impeccably. When we went out together it was like we were a celebrity couple or something. Heads would turn whenever we walked into a café or restaurant. We looked good together and we both loved to schmooze. It was almost sickening how we were so into each other every time we went out in public. It was like we were the perfect couple. He did everything for me and doted on me so much.
He would always pick me up, and was always on time. If he was running late he’d call or text me. He would always reply to my messages and answer his phone when I called, even if he was preoccupied at the time. When he rang and I didn’t pick up, he’d leave me voice mail messages. He would always tell me where he was, what he was doing and who he was with.
He’d listen to my whinging and whining about the stupidest of things. He was always there without fail when I needed to rant and just wanted someone to listen. He cared and he showed it.
He loved everything about me and told me all the time. He made me feel like a princess and treated me like one too. He loved every bit of me that I hated. Not just every now and then, but consistently. He was faultless.
But it became annoying and sometimes sickening. It seemed like he thought the sun shined out of my ass and all I wanted him to do was disagree with me occasionally and challenge me. When I asked him if he thought I had attitude, he told me it was ’spunk’. I’d say the most stupid and silly things because I knew I could and I didn’t have to impress him. Things so silly that would make me look even more silly, but I only did it to get a reaction. I was a little bitch and he seemed to only like me even more.
In truth he was everything I wanted in a guy. His perfect and warm persona not to mention handsomely good looks made him a great catch. He was very attractive, with almost perfect features, but not cocky whatsoever. A true gentleman. On a superficial level he would have made the best husband, were I at that stage of my life.
But as a selfish bitch currently embracing hedonism in all its glory, I need something more than all this perfection and organisation which I languished for, for such a long time. I want excitement and fun; spontaneity and impulsiveness. A challenge and not a walk-over.
Mr X is seeing someone else now and I am happy for him. I hope he finds someone that can appreciate and embrace the amazing qualities he possesses and that are so rare to find these days. He ticked all the boxes, yet sadly, for me that just wasn’t enough.
