Date a girl who is particularly loquacious with a vocabulary far broader than your own. One who loses you with her way with words. That way you do not have to pretend that you don’t understand what she’s talking about because you actually don’t.
Meet her in the best-lit corner of that niche-y hole in the wall coffee shop/used book store/art gallery after open-mic def poetry Thursday. And when you find her buried unwarily behind her Mac, come up to her with a pick-up line that is cleverer than the Facebook status that she just updated. And with that your souls are intertwined with a connection that doesn’t need Wi-Fi.
Take her home in your car with a stereo iPod port and dazzle her with the number of obscure artists on your favorite “weary day” playlist. And by the time you’ve finished arguing about who the better Murakami is, you convince yourselves that you are soulmates. You then make out to a song by “The Whitest Boy Alive”.
She tells you how much she likes you by using a quote with words like “infinite” and “maudlin”. You then go on an online Thesaurus to broaden your vocabulary right before you change your relationship status.
Let the months pass. Get matching wayfarer sunglasses, script tattoos and Lomo cameras. You do not mind that whole week when she was really into Jane Austen and forced you to converse with her in a Victorian British accent. For a while she is fond of you; she even dedicated one look on her lookbook.nu profile to you, entitled “boyfriend P.E. t-shirt”.
But soon she will find you a bit too mainstream for her taste. You do not know where this sentiment came from but you have a feeling it all started when you got a BlackBerry™ and tweeted about the Azkals.
Then the once loquacious girl who had so many adverbs and adjectives to describe your love writes a note on Facebook about how boring you are and uses the word “ennui”. You break up. You cry. You stalk her for 3 weeks, then you get a job as a marketing consultant just so you could go on with your life. You grow old. You get your body cryogenically frozen so you will wake up in the future to battle an evil Wesley Snipes assassin. But that is a different story.
Do those things guard darn it, because nothing sucks worse than a simple girl.
A girl without pretense or affectation, a girl who knows the meaning of those words but uses the term “keep it real” instead so you could understand it better.
A girl who doesn’t try too hard to differentiate herself from the world, and that is why she stands out.
A girl who doesn’t have to quote Virginia Woolf or recite poetry by Pablo Neruda because even just her hiccup or burp makes you smile.
A girl who doesn’t have to showcase her character because its brightness exudes even if she downgrades it.
A girl who knows that the simplest joys are the greatest ones and she is not afraid to share hers with you no matter how little they may seem.
God Forbid you ever date a simple girl instead of an unnecessarily verbose one, you might find yourselves staring at each other speechless, probably not because you have nothing to say but perhaps because your hearts are doing all the speaking for you.
by Mikel Francisco Rama