he never ceases to make me smile.

he's smart. incredibly smart. hard working. insanely diligent. he attends class regularly not just because he needs to, but because he knows it's important and interesting. he's a walking banana republic advertisement. he has a great sense of fashion, much more than you'd expect from a guy. he knows the difference between casual and dress, flared and bootcut, classy and sexy.

he can cook, fairly decently. he cleans: scrubs the bathroom mirror, vacuums, wipes the oil off the stove. he reads newspapers. time and newsweek. checks cnn.com everyday. reports to you the latest news, whether it is bush's take on iraq or scientists' mass producing anti-matter.

he watches out for you. holds you back from crossing the street when it's red. doesn't release his grip until you're safely across. calls you to "check up" on you when you're out. he listens. whether it is about your menstrual cramps (hah!) or the existence of true love. he'll talk to you for hours, giving you a slight glance at the inner linings of his thought process and emotions. he's caring, considerate, compassionate.

he makes me laugh. and thinking about it, it makes me smile.

and no (definitely no) he is not my boyfriend. although i can attest that he'll make some girl damn happy one day.