Guys

I had a Prince Charming once.

Of course, he only lived in my head, but I had him. I knew what height he would be and what he'd look like, what color hair and exactly what his eyes looked like. His face changed from time to time and I could never decide on a nose, but I knew what he'd do, what he'd think about life, what kind of job he'd have, what his favorite thing about me was. I picked my favorite name in the whole world to be his name. I could even imagine his voice in my head and sometimes I jump a little when I head a sound like it. He was my carefully constructed dream but I couldn't create him in words even if you paid me to.

So imagine my surprise when I met a guy who matched him. Same color hair, maybe a little too light in the summer, but I'm not picky. Same general build, though an inch or so maybe too short. I had always imagined him as a couple of years older than me, but I'm not opposed to someone the same age. I always felt like Prince Eric in the Little Mermaid, searching for the right voice, and though this new kid didn't match entirely, I loved his voice all the same. One day, the new kid said that he wanted to change his middle name to my favorite name in the world (a fact I think still unbeknown to him) and I took it as a weird sign. Beyond all of that, he had the right eyes. I am a sucker for a set of nice eyes.

Now, I know nobody's perfect (except for God, but I love Him anyway) but what do you do with a guy who fits the dream criteria, who jumps to your mind when someone starts talking about lomls (or loyals, we haven't decided yet), who meets expectations you didn't even know you had?

Forget him, apparently.

After three years or so, you realize that what you had thought was love is merely misplaced affection or that it wouldn't have worked out in the first place. You can't make someone your prince.

And who wants a prince anyway? Hamlet's clearly not a great choice. Pick a Disney prince and they've all pretty much done something pathetic and stupid. Prince Humperdink? I think we can all agree that Westley is in a whole different class. I mean, he's the Dread Pirate Roberts for goodness' sake. If I'm being honest, my Prince Charming wasn't technically a prince and so I shouldn't go about bashing all of them. You can't really blame their status as royalty for their uselessness. Marius, we can agree, isn't exactly the epitome of awesome manliness.

Don't mistake the general man-bashing for bitterness. And by don't mistake, I mean name it for what it is. If I say I'm not bitter, it's because I'm in denial and if I say I'm bitter, it's because I've hit rock bottom. I've been mourning the loss of someone I've never had for too long to be happy again, observing a grief that was never mine.

Well, screw that.

No, it is not my intent to go out and find me a man this very instant. I'm not going to go fall for the first guy that smiles at me across a room. I'm still watching Sweeney Todd tomorrow with a good friend (who could have better plans if dimwit would wake up and see what he's missing). I'm happy being single, and by that I mean that I'm fine being independent and by that I mean that I'm patient. But I think the war on boys may be coming to an end. I may not need a man to make me happy, but I certainly don't need them to make me sad.