His hand gently brushes against my face, pushing back the stray hair that had escaped my ever-so-tight ponytail. His hand slides down to meet mine, which had been sitting in my lap. I squeeze his hands to let him know that it’s okay, and he grins sheepishly as he places his other hand into mine. My heart is racing. Could this be it? He has never been this close. I can smell his cologne, and he leaning in, closer and closer. Our lips start to touch…

Yuck. That’s all I’m going to say to that. 'Sup? The name's Ellie. Some girl in our class is sharing a piece about love. Whatever. I’m just saying, romance is nothing like that. No couple is perfect, and it’s definitely not like that in my life. Trust me, I have a boyfriend, and he definitely doesn’t affectionately brush my boy-cut hair out of my face. We mess up all the time. But in my opinion, that’s how it’s supposed to be. I mean come on, if that mushy stuff is how you expect your relationship to go, then good luck ever finding a guy. Seriously, it might start out like that, but in the end, romance just isn’t a thing most guys can master. Take my man for instance. He would much rather spend the weekend hunting than curled up in front of the fire with me. But, in fairness, I’m not really much of a romantic myself. Put me in front of a good book, and whoops, there he goes from my mind. I guess we have come to a silent agreement that neither of us gets upset if the other wants to spend some time with other friends once in a while. That’s a perfect couple in my opinion. I don’t expect him to do anything romantic, so it’s really not a problem. I’m never going to have to deal with all that mush about first kisses either. That’s just stupid. I really don’t see what’s special about smashing your face into another persons mouth. It really isn’t that great, and yes, I have tried it a few times.

He actually bought me flowers today, since it was my birthday. I totally derped it because he dropped the card and we bumped each other’s heads on the way down to pick it up. It wouldn’t have been so bad, except that I hit his head with my bony elbow on the way up.  I wasn’t hurt, but he had to put ice on his head and had a headache for an hour. Score one for me. Not.

I guess it’s good that I’m not really romantic, because, as I’ve just proven, I’m not very good at it. I think most high school girls want to find the guy of their dreams and ride away into the sunset, but not me. I want a guy who hunts on weekends but always comes back to me on Monday, and who bonks his head just to give me a card. I guess you couldn’t call what we have a romance. I think maybe it’s just a not-so perfect romance. And, honestly, that’s the way that I like it best.