Boys will be boys will be boys

And yet, I'm still crazy about them.

Always have been, always will be. You have to admit that no matter how infuriating the male species is, they're also wildly intriguing. It's a web that I can't help getting tangled up in. I've never been one of those girls who hung a "Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them" poster in my room. I don't think they're stupid; I think they're different. And I like them. I love them. Can't get enough of them.

I love the way they can make you cry just as easily as they can make you laugh. I love the way they surprise you. I love the way I hold my breath when my text message alert sounds, hoping it's 'him', whomever 'him' may be.

I love how they're so easy and yet so complicated. I love their camaraderie. I love the way they all dance together haphazardly in a circle, not caring who is watching. I love that girls cannot do this because we're too busy adoring them.

I love that they are absolutely clueless to the amount of power they hold over us, yet completely aware of the power we hold over them.

I love that they wear the Gucci loafers that their mother both chose and bought for them.

I'm not asking for Mr. Right. I'm not even asking for Mr. Right Now. I just want to hold my breath every now and again. Is that so much to ask?