Don’t cheat on me. I wouldn’t know how to take it.
I’m loud, self-assured, overbearing at times. At least that’s how people know me. But when you start to fall in love with me, I become vulnerable. I slowly burn down that red brick wall and behind it I let you see an ocean of frailties.
Feel the sand on your feet and listen to the waves crashing. They tell you that sometimes, especially on weekends, I don’t like to shower. But that’s okay, you still find it cute. Start swimming and you’re going to step on a few corals. They let you know about a few white lies I tell people to get away with things. You gently scold me, but that’s it. Swim further and you’ll feel the big yet silent waves carrying your weight back to the shore. They let you recognize the towering level of conceit I have and the magnitude of attention I want from people. You now start to practice your being open and understanding. Can you still keep up? Keep swimming. Farther now. Stop, and you’ll feel nothing. Your feet won’t touch anything, just water. The depth you’re in and the silence you’re hearing tell you that most of the time, I don’t think I’m beautiful. They tell you that you’re the first person to witness this self-proclamation. They also tell you that I sometimes think I’m not good enough for you. You may think of it as a cliché of false humility, but the endless depth of the ocean that’s pulling your weight right now tells you that it is actually true. That you’re better than I am. That maybe your exes are, too. You—well, I don’t know what your next move is.
But don’t cheat on me. With that wall torn down, I won’t have anything to protect me anymore. If the mushy metaphors above failed to convince you, I am deeply unsure of myself. I need you to tell me every so often that you love me because I don’t think I’m capable of making a person be in love with me for more than a week. I need you to kiss me every night before we go to bed because I don’t think I’m attractive enough for a person to actually stick around until sunrise. I need you to tell me I’m beautiful because you’re the only person I’ll believe when they tell me that. Yes, they’re too much. Maybe even suffocating? Then you don’t have to do all of it.
Just please, don’t cheat on me. With that wall torn down, I wouldn’t know how to take it.