Just living my life {pvt}

STANDARDS

I have been told that I have unrealistic standards 
Because I want a man with strong hands and a soft heart
Not a boy with sticky fingers and a hidden agenda
Because I want Friday nights cuddled in 500 thread count
Not a snow sprinkled night club teetering in stilettos
Because I want shy smiles lurking behind oversized mugs
Not sloppy winks and wet tongues with strangers on dance floors
Because I want a singular perfect sunflower
Not a dozen store bought red roses 
Because I want the first edition of my favorite novel
Not a little blue box
Because I want sunday morning farmers markets and bed hair
Not Starbucks with my name missing the ‘h’
Because I want butterflies
Not liquid courage
Because I want it to be “us”
Not “me” and not “him”
Not “Allie” and not “Noah”
Not “Jack” and not “Rose”
The first and last perfect love story of just us
And maybe I’ll have to wait patiently at the train station
Let summer come fall, and back around again
Maybe until my eyes crinkle and my heart’s worse for wear
But the day will come when he steps off that platform 
And my baby blues meet his ambiguous gaze 
Coat in tow, bag in hand, heart sewn on the wrist of his button up
Grinning ear to year 
Because standards exist to be met
To be exceeded