I've found a wonderful man, everything I could have wanted-- one who listens, who tells me I'm still pretty, even if I forego makeup and revealing clothing.
One who straddles the fine line of being chivalrous and never sexist, protective but never possessive. I cannot help but wonder, what some recluse like me could have ever done to deserve him.
Down to the details, even-- his shiny black hair, his innocent smile (And I've always had a thing for foreign men...) While I stumble as I walk, shrivel under the sunlight and stutter on my words.
I've likely grown spoiled by him, and when I tell him how much of a catch he truly is, he only says, "There are plenty of other nice guys out there, I'm nothing special."
Oh, Saleh, I could only smile, and repress the memory of what other 'nice guys' before you have done to me.