I’ve spent a lifetime searching for someone I don’t pick apart. Someone to lie next to for hours without thinking it’s too silent, too intimate. Looking for someone who felt like home, who I could laugh with and share everything with and I would never feel uncomfortable. Lovely things never come easy. Heaven takes time to get to and people have their own needs. I’ve learnt that true love is the person you feel comfortable with, the person you want to spend every second with even though you need personal space constantly. The person who you’ll invest every memory in even though you like to stay closed. The person who you’ll cry to and not worry whether they’ll care about you any less. The person you don’t doubt, when all you’ve ever done is doubt. All you’ve ever done is picked apart the people you loved the most until you couldn’t find anything to love. Because when you love, you love them to ruins. To dust. To ashes. You don’t deserve them, but you can’t force them to leave so you force them out of your mind with unattainable ideals and bitter thoughts. I’ve found someone. Someone I don’t pick apart. Someone to lie next to for hours, to bleed love to, to be comfortable with, to do everything that scares me but not be scared with. I am not patient, but this time I will be. I am hateful, but this time I won’t be.


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