It took me a whole lot of time to realize why. And it was simple, laughably so. I am hard to love because I’m not the girl you fall in love with.
I’m possibly the woman you respect. The woman you admire. The woman you’d like to come home to. The woman who forces you to question perspectives you’ve been living with for years. The woman who rattles your preconceived notions of what YOU like. The woman you look at and wonder ‘how? How does she do that?’ The woman you look to for strength and support. The woman who makes you realize how large the world is, and can be. The woman you’d turn to when you need advice. The woman who makes a man out of you.
But I’m not the girl you fall in love with. I’m not the girl you want to spend hours with, just staring at each other. The girl you try so hard to get a smile out of. The girl whose hands you want wrapped up in yours. The girl who’s so beautiful, so delicate, that she makes you want to fight the world for her.
I’m not the girl you can protect from herself, because I’m not fragile enough to break at every step. I’m hardened, and I have battle scars that possibly mirror yours. I’m not ashamed of the marks, and blemishes, and bruises on my body and mind. They’re mine, and they tell my story. I won’t walk meekly, always a step behind you. I’ll walk with you. Push you, just as much as I push myself.
This makes me difficult to love, because you can’t wrap my love around yourself. No. You’ll have to bend, too, and that will chafe at you. Eventually, you might leave, just because you found a girl who makes you happy, instead of a woman who made you think.
I’m not the girl you fall in love with. I’m the woman you learn to love..
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