Is he right for me?

Hey dad,

I can't say why but he untangles something gnarled in me. With those firm, hard working hands he rattles against everything I thought was my wretched, knotted core. He is like a harsh, soothing rain. I'm beginning to need him and he's hardly real to me. He's less real than a stranger on the street should be to me, but dominates my mind. I've never thought the old addage of not being able to stop thinking about someone was anything but hyperbole. I have been proven wrong for the time being, and even my skepticism has dulled with the security he provides me.

He tells me he wants me adored and secure. And there are unspoken words. He imagines a future of me. Brilliant, loved, in gentle hands. But I'm not sure he imagines those hands are his. He wants me, I'm sure of that. But he, like I should, is smart enough to acknowledge the impossibility of our circumstances.

I called out to the universe for someone like him. Usually when this happens my wishes are not truly what I wanted. I feel some incongruency. I feel some pain. The only pain I have is heartache that he cannot be here, with me, to make true everything he's said to me. I wish he could touch me, hold me, teach me everything I don't know enough of and learn from me what it's like to be terrified of someone who can never really harm you. I want to scare him. I don't know why. I believe I should be scared but I'm not. All I feel is want. Calm, persistent want. If it is a storm it's like the one on Jupiter.

Is he right for me?