It was never about the traits I desperately tried to make you notice. Nothing along the lines of what others would chorus - how well I love, care, carry myself, cook or look. It will never be about my hopes and dreams and all my whims and fancies in between.
All of these was what drew you to me, that was never a question, but they will never be a prerequisite to you loving me because I just realised these things I do, should never be specifically for you, or anyone else for that matter, but myself. You may like the idea of me but these ideas were and will never be sufficient for you to fall in love with me.
We used to argue that the other's version of love was warped and now I've realised maybe we didn't even know what love is at all.
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