Shawn

Norsk

In lieu of a normal profile, I've opted to write a set of prose poems.

About you:
You walked through the door wearing honesty on your face, humor on your lips, and love on your heart, and now you're standing there modestly, anticipating a big hug and a bigger kiss. Your life might give you every reason to be cynical and jaded, but you choose to be joyful and trusting—never do your feelings own you. You don't think you're so independent that you don't need help, or so strong that others are weak—you're no island. You shine like the dawn; you're as beautiful as the full moon, and as pure as the sun. His Word serves as your relationship counselor. You know how important it is to make love a daily action, and not rely on it to remain a feeling. You also know how important it is to believe the best about others, not assume the worst. Your pursuit of honesty and truth led you to God, and He led you to me, the man you're currently kissing deeply and passionately. Even though you're far from perfect, and don't claim to be, you still strive to be Godly, and you refuse to become part of the world of selfishness and vanity that exists beyond the door.

About me:
I thought I knew how to be a dad until I was one. It's a sentiment all parents can understand, I think. I wasn't prepared for just how completely my daughter melted my heart—nor how quickly her joie de vivre restored mine, which I had lost in a quagmire of hollow relationships. I thought I was worth a woman's loyalty, but the times I've been betrayed tempt me to think maybe I wasn't. After all, what do I have to offer? Stupid human tricks, like armpits that smell like coffee, or an arm that can vibrate and stipple my drawings for me, or heightened senses that let me compete with my cat? (That last one is hubris, I know, but what am I if not optimistic?) I do still think I'm worth love and devotion despite it all. I suppose I could offer her an adventurous spirit, or maybe unwavering monogamy. Perhaps a heart of sacrifice and servitude filled with love deep and wide, with a tendency toward hopeless romance (with all the poeticism and grace of an armadillo doing a pirouet, if I'm honest). I could offer to be her leader, her cheerleader, and her crying shoulder. I could offer to be hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with her, and sweep her off her feet. There must be one woman out there who would love a man like that. I know how to be her husband—or at least I think I do—but maybe I won't really know until I am.

About us:
We sit on our porch during a storm, reminiscing while thunder rolls in the distance. You smile and ask if I remember how we met. I reply that I was a carpenter working in my father's shop, trying to build a life, when in you walked and reminded me that I couldn't do it alone. You look at me, incredulous. "Figuratively," I explain, and we laugh at the farce as we have countless times before. We wax proud that our youngest is a doctor, and wax poetic that our many progeny will be beacons of light to the world. We cuddle close as the thunder cracks and the butterflies tickle our stomachs. We look up and thank our Father that we had the chance to experience real love that is patient and kind, that does not envy or boast, and is not proud; love that does not dishonor others, is not self-seeking or easily angered, and keeps no record of wrongs; love that does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth; love that always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. We give each other a knowing stare, and remember that we wanted to throw in the towel sometimes, but we got up and fought for what was right—for each other. We embrace and share an immortal kiss as the tempest kicks up its fury around us, and then we head inside, closing the door on the coming night.

If you like what you see, send a message that includes an antijoke. I'll only respond if you do.

Leo

Gjennomsnittlig

5 '8 (1,73 m)

Hassel

kaukasisk, Innfødt amerikaner

Ugift

Ja - bor ikke hjemme

Ja

Smil

Lys brun

Katt

Nei

Den neste generasjonen

The Undiscovered Country

Jean-Luc Picard

Annet

Nei

Nei

College Grad

Arbeidsledig

Kunst / musikk / litteratur

N/A

Mindre Enn $14,999USD

Alene, Med kjæledyr

Alt er rolig

Nei

Nei

Den stille

Reservert, Sjenert, Observant, Vennlig, Komisk, Flørtende, Merkelig

Religion / livssyn, Familie, Restaurant, Fotografi, Lese, Kunst og Håndverk, Lære, Musikk, Filmer, Internett, Spill, Dansing, Teater, Reise, Lage mat, Kortspill, Kamping, Datamaskiner

Være med venner, Shoppe, Være hjemme, Prøve nye ting, Kino, Slappe av, Sove, Lese en bok, Spille videospill, Gå på museum

I'd love to treat a great woman to a nice snack or coffee and just talk. I'm an avid and interested listener, so I'd prompt responses as much as possible and simply get to know her and let her get to know me.

I've always wanted to take a trip from New Zealand up through Australia, to the East coast of Asia, then through Alaska, or possibly vice versa.

Vennlig, En andre ønsker å være, Kul, obskur, Tullete, En flørt

Kristen

En gang i uken

I live to fulfill God's purpose for me.

Campy / overdrevet, Smart, Tørr / Sarkastisk, Vennlig, Tullete, obskur, Slapstick, Frekk

Jeg liker ikke Tv

Action, Science Fiction, Komedie, Drama, Dokumentar, Familie, Andirektemeldingasjon, Skrekk, Thriller

Rock, Electro, Pop, Klassisk, Blues, Jazz, Industri, New age, Dance, Soul, Gospel, Folkemusikk

Tegneserie / tegnestripe, Datamaskiner, Fantasi, Fiction, Historie, Humor, Mysterier, Filosofi, Referanse, Poesi, Religiøs, Satire, Vitenskap, Science Fiction, Jeg er forfatter, Overnaturlig

I love designing new things, be they sketches, trinkets, or digital creations. Anything goes.

vett, flørtende, Dristighet, Følsomhet, Empati, Humor, Flott utseende, Omtanksfull, Intelligens

I look for a woman who has the kind of intelligence and kindness behind her eyes that she just can't hide. After that, I look for a woman who takes care of herself and her body.

Forpliktet