The Matter in Questioning

What is my type
Is sometimes a typo
When persons oftentimes ask me the type I get into
Simply saying she must smile with a dimple
Having hair down her back and a face without pimples
It was simple
Until I started thinking wise
Then suddenly my type would change into something otherwise

She must smile like a mother
Close like a brother
But the love she has for me should be compared to no other
Smart like a sister
Miss me like I miss her
And if she jokes like my father
Then she and I were made to be together
But unless she was, I could not make her like my relatives
So all the things I wished she had would have to be relative

I never could be seriously honest about the kind I was into
Maybe in my mind I had thought it was a sin to
Be that honest about myself
And perhaps its the reason I remain off the shelf
Maybe...
The matter in questioning
Was my question target
What is the reason I remain off the market?