Why can’t I be loved the way I love?
Or am I asking too much..?
We’ve had this conversation before.
Same words, different day. Same promise, different tone. And still, we end up here.
I didn’t want to keep pointing out what’s missing, keep explaining things that feel so obvious to me. So I tried something else.
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I showed you.
This is how I listen. This is how I care. This is how I remember little things. This is how I stay, even when it’s hard.
I thought maybe you’d notice. Maybe you’d understand without me having to ask for it.
You say you’ll try, I say I understand. And for a moment, it feels like maybe this time will be different. But it never really is.
And it makes me think, “Am I too much? Is my love too complicated to understand? Or am I just hard to love?”
Because to me, it doesn’t feel complicated. To remember. To notice. To care in the way someone has ben quietly showing you.
But I’m still here hoping you’ll finally see me the way I’ve been seeing you all this time.
And maybe that’s what hurts the most.
