Date a guy who reads. Date a guy who spends more money on books than on flirting aimlessly with shallow girls. He feels uncomfortable when he tries to share his thoughts on his current read, and is met with a blank stare. Date a guy who has a ton of unread books cluttering his bedroom, because he buys too many books that he can keep up with his limited precious time for reading.
Find a guy who reads. You'll recognize him by the thick glasses perched on his nose. His fingertips are stained with ink and highlighter fluid. He's the one standing by the bookshelves, rapidly scanning the racks for bargain finds and new releases. You see that guy looking for a quiet spot in the coffeeshop where he won't be bothered? That's your guy.
He's the guy with the big laptop bag or the mangy, grimy backpack. His bag is crammed with pad paper, notebooks, pencils, ballpens and highlighters. He's furiously scribbling notes while glancing at his books, transcribing eloquent lines which have moved his spirits to gentler depths. Sit down next to him. He might stare at you, like a deer caught in headlights, wondering why someone as beautiful as you would bother with a reclusive nerd like him.
Ask him if the coffee in this joint is any good.
Let him know if you think Hemingway is a chauvinistic pig, or a man trapped in his own myth. Ask him if he has ever gotten past any novel by Eco. Understand that if he says he likes Alcott's "Little Women," he's letting down his guard and trusting you with a glimpse of his vulnerability. Ask him if he would like to be trapped on an island, like Robinson Crusoe. Ask him if you could be the Midori to his Toru.
It's not easy to date a guy who reads, but he's worth it. He will regale you with story upon story, learning upon learning, wisdom upon wisdom, and worlds upon worlds. You're more likely to lose him to incompatible rhetoric than to another woman. He will listen to you with a silence enraptured by the rise and fall of your breath, taking note of how beautifully your eyes crinkle when you smile. He lives for that small moment... touching your hand and sharing a cup of coffee, sharing a pointless corny joke.
He will adore you.
You can't lie to him. He understands syntax and context, metaphor and allusion. He will smile whimsically when you attempt to distract him with straw-man arguments. He will just keep quiet, having learned from Shakespeare, never to raise the ire of a woman scorned.
Confound him. He's read from psychology reports of the intricate and superior wiring of the female mind, but he'll never believe it until you throw your first sulky fit, not understanding that you're mad because he didn't notice your new haircut nor say, "Hey, your hair is cute." He's always believed that his understanding of complex plots and the work of Machiavelli has prepared him for a woman's reasoning. Prove him wrong. Tell him, "You know nothing, Jon Snow."
Exasperate him with your unusual outlook in life. He loves unraveling the intricacies of what makes you special, and your complications will never cease to fascinate him. Tell him you read Murakami and he will never let you go. But it's alright if you prefer Sidney Sheldon, Judith Mcnaught or Danielle Steele. He will be happy that you read. Just don't ever admit that you like Twilight.
If you find a guy who reads, give him space. He relishes silence and distance and time apart. He needs for you to be gone, so he can realize how profoundly he misses you. When he loves you, he will give you all he has and shall leave broken pieces of himself behind in the pursuit of your happiness. Give him time to gather those pieces and reassemble them, so that he will care for you again with everything that is in him to give. See that wrinkled, dog-eared and yellowed book that he sets aside on a special place on his bookshelf? He loves you like that book. He will come back to you, over and over, with fresh perspective, having figured you out from the time spent trying to piece together fragmented data.
He will make sure you understand how much you are special, like the only rose growing in the Little Prince's little planet. Train him like the fox in that book, to love you. Grow closer to him, slowly, one minute in one day of a time, and he can never bear to imagine what life would be like when you're not around.
He shall be as Ned Stark to your Catelyn, fiercely devoted and tied to the rock of his duty. He will give your kids formal ordinary names, like Peter, Susan, Edmund or Lucy. But he will give them funny nicknames as they are growing up, like Wednesday, Shadow or Mister Nancy. Hold your ground and tell him you cannot name his eldest son Kal-el.
You will grow old together, with him sharing with you the stories found in the books he's reading, or recite Cummings to you, by the firelight, whispering that the voice of your eyes are deeper than all roses.. that nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
Date a guy who reads, because you deserve to be happy. You deserve a guy whom you will only lose, momentarily, to his books. He only asks that you give him his silence and space, to be lost within the worlds in his head. But when he returns, he will share the Universe with you, and give you the rose from the Beast's garden, garb you with the garments from Cinderella's ball, or kiss you with the fervor that dislodged the poisoned apple from Snow White's palate. If you want to live happily ever after, date a guy who reads.
Or better yet, date a guy who shoots photographs.
:)
http://northwolf.multiply.com/journal/item366?&show_interstitial=1&u=%2Fjournal%2Fitem
