I would’ve taken you. I would’ve loved you.
Your flaws? They don’t scare me. They drew me closer, made me want you more.
It’s the vulnerable you that I seek, the lost boy, the one you refer to as weak.
I wanted to kiss your insecurities…
Hug your heart so tight, to the point where you’d learn how to do it yourself.
You saw crazy, chaos. I saw beauty, strength, endless possibilities.
Guess that’s why we would never work.
I wish you could love yourself more. I wish you’d see what I see. I wish you find yourself and love what you find.
See, I would’ve loved you because as much as I like to hide it, I’m that kind of girl. The girl who feels too much, who’s willing to give all of her to make those she cares about happy.
I fix things, people. I listen, closely, I observe, I empathize…I fix.
I fall for those who need saving. I fall for the forbidden, for the ones who make me ache.
I fall for the nights of insomnia, for the anxiety, I fall for the pain, for the what ifs. I fall for the insecure..
Is it because I’m afraid of commitment so I unconsciously keep choosing those who won’t commit over those who would last? Is it a pride thing? To feel superior? To actually prove myself I deserve better and end up blaming it all on you?
And by you I mean every man… generalizing so I can justify my fear for love?
Or is it because I feel the need to save others in order to forget I’m an emotional wreck myself?
I would’ve loved you.