Keep knocking on wood
Hopin' there's
A real boy inside
But you're not a man
You're just a mannequin
I wish you could feel
That my love is real
When Kitty had said “You need a man”, she certainly didn't have goody-two-shoes Bobby Drake in mind. He wasn't exactly my idea of a man and nowhere near what I really wanted.
But somehow I had ended up convincing myself that he was really quite cute, in his own way. And with my beyond awesome superpowers of tricking my brain into feeling what I wanted it to, I had managed to make myself love him.
Bobby was really too good to be true, judging objectively.
He was sweet, caring, just so plain nice to me that it almost seemed fake – but he wasn't. He was for real and even though he wasn't the man I wanted, I could see myself with him forever.
Because he was easy to be with.
He never pushed me to do anything I didn't want...well yes, he did ask me to kiss him or touch him quite frequently, assuring me it would be okay, but I knew it wouldn't and he respected that.
Yes, I think it is safe to say that I loved Bobby. No head-over-heels kind of love, no butterflies, but a kind of warm, fuzzy, comforting feeling in my tummy that made me want to smile at him all the time and hold his hand.
I might now have been in love with him, but I did love him. Even if he did seem more like Ken-come-to-life than a real teenage boy sometimes.
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