I want a love that’s imperfect, that’s damn messy and complicated and isn’t painted to look all pretty and hang on a bedroom wall.
I want a love that’s real, on every single level. A love that isn’t surfacey, but digs down deep to the gritty parts of our pasts that we try to hide when we’re feeling nervous or self-conscious about who we are and where we’ve been.
I want a love that knows and really sees each other.
I want a love that is filled with the craziness of falling for someone—the rush at their touch, the stomach flip-flops whenever you see them, the conflict of trying to make them happy but also trying to be true to yourself. I want the arguments about who we are; I want the fights about how the hell two flawed people are going to make this thing work.
See, the world makes love out to be this beautiful thing you jump into, and suddenly, with the right person, all the pieces fit together.
But that’s stupid. And I don’t want that.
I don’t want someone who’s going to make me forget all my flaws. My flaws make me the person I am, and even though those parts of me sometimes really suck, they’re still a part of me.
And I don’t want someone who hides their true self. Love means seeing who someone really is—even their sucky parts, and loving them just the same, if not more, because of them.
I don’t want someone who’s going to gloss over the edges and smooth out the wrinkles so we can look pretty on the outside.
I want someone who’s going to see me for me, us for us, and work through all that crap to have a love that means something rather than just looks nice.
I want a love that isn’t storybook because I’m not a stock character.
Some days I’ll be the villain and some days I’ll be the protagonist, the one that saves you. Some days I’ll drive you crazy, and some days you’ll fall into my arms because nowhere else has felt so safe, so right.
Some days we’ll feel like ripping each other’s hair out.
And some days we’ll wonder why we ever fight.
We won’t always have it together. We won’t always shave the answers. We’ll go through things that shake us to the core and make us pull away from each other.
But I want that. I want all of that.
I want you on your worst days and I want you to want me on mine.
I want us to learn all the things that make each other nervous, or scared, or angry, or human.
And I think, what I want most of all, is for us to still choose each other through all of that. And keep choosing each other, day after day after day.
See, I want imperfect love. Not this idealized, make-believe version of how it’s ‘supposed to be.’ When I fall in love, I want to crash and be dizzy. I want to be with someone who gets that I’m going to cry for no reason sometimes, or want to be alone sometimes, or be damn stubborn sometimes, just because.
I want someone that sees me, in all the millions of souls in the world, and says, ”I want that imperfect one. She’s mine.”
Because we’re all a little broken.
So let’s be broken together.