if he were anyone else she would have left.
she would have packed her bags at the first sign of rejection, drying her tears prematurely and hastily, leaving without even allowing the dust to settle, making way for clarity.
she would have left if it were anyone else when she saw the dismal and path to happiness she would have to trek across if she wanted her skin to be pressed up against his in the most naked ways.
but he was him, so she stayed despite all the rocks and the bruises.
everyone saw him superficially, the way he wished to be perceived.
he was the funny, witty, handsome, mysterious boy on the football team with good grades and a job who put together school dances.
she saw all the pieces of him no one else would look hard enough for.
the dark one that would always fear something more.
the jagged one that refused to open up.
the cold one that reeked of abandonment and neglect.
she saw all those and refused to let that stop her.
she loved him despite it.
she offered him her blood when he was bleeding out, her bones when his broke, and a hand when he stumbled.
no matter what, she would give.
because she saw the pieces no one else did.
and she fell in love with them.
