I have the privilege of knowing who I really am.
I’ve been in love.
I’m not incapable.
I fall in love quite easily as a matter of fact.
I’m also okay with that.
Even though it’s admittedly quite painful in the end.
When I say I love you, I’ll become whatever you want.
Not necessarily what you say you want, but show me.
You always have a way of showing me, and if I love you…
I never get sick of that line…
“If you love me…”
If you loved me, you’d never say that.
No one’s ever really loved me.
I can say that confidently.
No one.
Ever.
Not “romantically” speaking.
“If you loved me…”
You sometimes ask for superficial things. Easy things. Cosmetic things. You sometimes beg for fantasies. Fallacies. Luxuries. “All of me.”
This time, you need “all of me.”
I wonder if you know what to do with that kind of control.
I don’t.
The more you ask, the less I give…but I’ll give until I’m empty when you don’t ask.
Maybe it’s wrong.
Maybe I don’t have anything that you want.
What would happen if you actually wanted me?
I don’t need you–not really–but I can position myself so that you can make things a lot easier for me.
I’ll let you make things a lot harder.
I judge. I weigh and rule.
I’m wrong sometimes.
I’ll apologize.
You’re going to try to give me what I want, and I’m going to tell you things.
Superficial things.
Easy things.
Cosmetic things.
Fantasies.
Fallacies.
Luxuries.
You’ll have me all figured out right before I change my mind.
Do you honestly think you’re ready?
Maybe next time.