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Bobby

I suppose it’s all subjective, but I have found that the benefits of a relationship with my best friend overwhelmingly trump the drawbacks. We got to skip the awkward first dates, the small talk, the games. We already knew we had similar tastes and opinions on more important matters. He knows my entire family already (they adore him and vice versa), even the distant relatives, and his parents and I already have a mutual love for one another. It seems so logical, but I was apprehensive about it, at first. At this point, any past anxiety seems irrelevant,  because I can’t tell you how wonderful it has been. Maybe I’m finally more concerned with my own happiness, rather than the opinions of others. 

It’s no secret that I’m a difficult girl to handle. In addition to my better traits, I am stubborn, emotional, annoyingly independent (and sometimes quite the opposite), messy, anxious and a hermit. Not to mention my disregard for ever truly growing up. For some weird reason, he loves me, despite what a handful I can sometimes be. I hate to rhapsodize, because it makes me and everyone else uncomfortable. Suffice it to say that he is wonderful, beautiful, kind, thoughtful and just about as disgustingly perfect as someone can be. 
In short, if I didn’t like him so much, I’d probably want to throw up all over his shoes. Icky love stuff still gives me the jitters. Did I mention I’m five years old?
-Keiko Lynn