I want to love you, I do.
I want the kind of companionship that I only read about in yellowed classics. I want to sit in silence and enjoy the lack of conversation. I also want to wake up next to you every morning and waft away into oblivion every night in your arms. I want every disagreement to be an informed conversation where we dissect each opinion and maybe, agree to disagree. I want to take you for who you are. I want to look at your flaws with wide-open eyes and learn to live with them. I want you to complete my unfinished thoughts. I want every birthday gift to be perfect. I want people tagging our pictures with #relationshipgoals. I want to live to a hundred and still feel the sparks.
I want to love you, I do.
But I may not be able to, because I am only human.
Silences get awkward every once in a while, because ego creeps in the tiny cracks or conversations peter out like they invariably do sometimes. Morning breath is truly abominable and sleeping on your arm all night gives you pins and needles and a crick in my neck. I cannot not yell, and you cannot make conversation – not when we are raging. I just cannot see past some of your flaws, just like you use my flaws against me passive aggressively. The sentences I leave unfinished may not always make sense to you. I may be too broke to get you what you really want, you may order just the wrong thing in the last minute flurry. Social media tags are grossly overrated, my past PDAs make me cringe now. Living a long life is overrated, I’d rather not get to a point where my health fails and I feel useless to society, and you.
I want to love you, I do.
But as a superbly flawed, blatantly realistic human being.
