this is the dirty truth.

130

I cry over everything. I cry over the way you raised your voice the slightest bit out of annoyance to the way you respond to my question with an emotionless answer. I will cry over the way you turned over in bed instead of facing me- even if it's only for comfort, I will overthink it till I am convinced it's because you don't love me. I am insecure. I am self conscious. I am an over analyst. I love you so much and to think you don't love me even a quarter as much will tear me apart. I am a realist and an over thinker, a deadly combination. I know a year from now neither of us will be the same and the realist in me knows the chances of us growing together rather than growing apart are slim. It's reality and that is not meant to be a dream come true, it's meant to be real. I know I will not be the only woman in your life. I know someone else will come along with wittier comebacks than me and a much nicer figure. Her teeth will be straighter than mine and her smile will take your breath away. She won't be as sensitive as me or as clingy. She probably won't trace her fingers over your chest at night and think about how in love she is with you and start to cry every fucking time like I do. She'd much rather smile and kiss you, but me? No, I have to be over emotional and cry all the goddamn time; cry when I'm happy, cry when I'm sad, cry when I'm mad. I am a burden without meaning to be, and I will always apologize for it. You hate it when I apologize all the time, so do you see where the problem lies in that? I am no good for you, because I don't see any good in myself. I did not believe the saying, "You can't love someone else until you learn to love yourself." Then I fell in love with you and realized I couldn't truly love you the way I should until I loved myself. I wouldn't let you touch me, because I thought you saw what I saw. You thought about me the way I thought about me. I couldn't show you the affection I truly felt because I was insecure and thought, "What if he doesn't like me that much? He probably feels disgusted when I kiss his cheek." I couldn't express my feelings for you without feeling as if I'd be made out to be a fool. You'd laugh in my face, because me being so vulnerable was truly hilarious. The worst part is you never once made me feel like you'd do or think any of those things. It was me. It was always my own conscious twisting reality and over analyzing situations and making up all these different scenarios in my head. You are in love with me, just as much as I am in love with you. I just haven't began to love myself in order to accept your love yet.