I don’t blame myself if I fall in love with him.
He is easy to love. He says the right things because that is the way he is- gentle and well mannered. He does the right things because that is how he is- considerate and honorable. He listens to me intently, laughs at the appropriate instances, and thinks the world of me. His love is kind and tender like him. Almost too perfect to be true.
I will never admit it but I feel unworthy to be with him as through I will taint his goodness. I feel underserving of his kindness, his beauty, and his attention.
You, on the other hand are different from all others.
You barge into my life so suddenly that I’m left reeling. You interrupt my thinking process and invade my thoughts. Your flaws are blatantly shoved to my face. You do not care about impressing me. You are honest to a fault as though to challenge me if I am brave enough, daring enough for you.
You are a hard man to love.
And you know what?
As much as I hate how you challenge me, how unyielding in your resolve not to give in to me, how I wish you are my knight in shining amour and my happily ever after, I cannot fault you in something I find it hard to believe.
The truth is none of that exist.
I thought I found it with him but it was not real.
He is made up of dreams and rainbow, like a vase I do not dare to touch for fear of breaking. Like a masterpiece I am content to admire from afar. You feel like a mundane workday that is both necessary to get through and a vital part of my day.
He is a gentle breeze, smoothing and calm to my wild erratic mood. You are like a hurricane, forceful and capable of bringing me destruction and ruin. He is what I wish on the shooting star and my on my birthday candles. You are the kind of man that reminds me of my father- rough and volatile but with a good heart.
You are real. You are here.
He is not.
That is all that matters.