In Which I Rant a Lot About Inconsequential Nonsense (Romantic Crap)

I am now recovering from a family friend boxing day dinner. It is just midnight now.

The guy who I often refer to as Hot Family Friend Guy came as he was visiting his family over Christmas. He lives and works in Canberra. He is 24. Unfortunately, that is just outside my five year radius. I don't know why but I was really nervous to see him this afternoon. It's odd because he was always so much older than me (and still is) and I never actually liked him romantically. But his mother is always like, "Martin should marry Junaberry."

That's his name, Martin. You may not know this but Martin is one of my favourite boys' names. Ever reading the Life and Times of Gracie Faltrain in year eight, Martin has become one of my favourite male names. I think of a Martin as really sweet, slightly nerdy, intelligent and caring. Like the character in the book, Hot Family Friend Guy pretty much meets all these criteria.

I think I probably hyped him up physically in my mind. He's a little short (maybe like 5'7-5'9) but he's probably the smartest guy I know and I don't even know him that well. He's also probably the politest, nicest, sweetest guy I know. He's quite shy and quiet but not socially incompetent. We were playing hangman. He kept guessing the most ridiculous (read: hard) words. It was amazing. A man with an amazing vocabulary is hard to come by. But more than that was modesty.

I don't think I like him but I just have a lot of respect for him. He's the guy you want to end up with the nicest, prettiest girl out there because he deserves her and you hope she deserves him.

J