i have recently found out that i am a hopeless stubborn romantic. to boot: i am selfish, immature, and unreasonable. it comes as a shock to me because i had always thought, always been told, that love was all about the "loving me for me." i thought that being with someone meant not shedding your skin, but being able to be comfortable in it. apparently i am greatly delusional because the "take me as i am, flaws or no flaws" only exists in fairytales and empty words.

i didn't know loving someone entitled asking them to change who they are; i was always taken with the "accept them as they come" approach. i had always thought it meant sacrificing the little things to save what mattered most. but evidently it is just the art of bottling things inside and ignoring the issues at hand.

i had, until now, always been led to believe that "this is who i am" was indeed a valid argument. i had always thought my general lack of affection would have been taken in to account from the get go. that it is understood as a measure of how much i dislike PDA, not how much i love and care for someone.

i desperately clung on to the notion that "love comes in all shapes and sizes" to justify myself. i tried to explain with "people love and care in different ways," convinced that the hours and hours i spent on the little things was enough to make up for my general unfamiliarity with the art of hugging. alas that was not enough.

my motives were questioned. i was asked if my love was genuine. once again, i was asked to change. i did, slowly and slightly. then it came to a point when i began doing the questioning.

what does it mean when you are asking me to change this, this, and that, all the while saying i'm self-centered because i am reluctant to? how is it that you claim to love me when you see so much that is wrong with me?

i asked and you denied that you were trying to build me up to an ideal in your mind. which is odd because i began to think that maybe who i am is very much different from who you thought i was. because saying you "know" i am a certain way doesn't really make it so. claiming that "i know you better than you do" doesn't really change the me i have come to know.

i asked you if you knew how it felt to have your flaws thrown at you, one by one, by the person who supposedly loved you. i wondered if you knew how the repeated mentions of how, well to put it crudely, my personality sucks - stung. you said you understood. you asked if i knew how it felt to endure all those flaws.

i asked if you knew how it felt to have my love for you questioned. you asked if i knew how it felt to have to question my love for you.

i asked if you knew how much the very mention of change upset me. how it made me feel that you couldn't love me for me. you answered that at this rate you really couldn't. and why couldn't i change for you if i really loved you.

i asked you why i was the only one changing. you said you have grown more patient. you replied with open arms, asking me to offer up things for you to fix. i suggested you were a bit insecure, you said "no such thing." i tried to explain that there was really no big flaw that concerned me more than our general well-being. you took that to mean i was more flawed than you. i said patience doesn't count, that "everyone..." you said "do you know how much I..."

i'm still stuck here trying to figure out who's to blame for things going wrong. you suggested that i gave up while you tried your best. that i was immature while i was your everything. i accused you of blaming me, you said you weren't.

i suggested that maybe, simply, we were different people who wanted different things. you agreed. and then went on to say how i took advantage of you. how my lack of initiative in those intimate matters meant i was taking you for granted. how frustrated you were with the fact that i had gotten used to you wrestling the bill from me. you soon took offense at the words "so different."

i still think that you are blaming me. but i think it's okay because a part of me blames you too. a part of me believes the worst in you, but deep down i know it's not true. you cared, you really did. and i guess all it really chalks up to is things not working out.

and if ranting and pointing fingers, while furiously denying the latter, is what gets us through then so be it.

but i still chuckle at the thought of you singing "just the way you are" to me. oh the irony. ah, but even then you added your little "buts" and "excepts."

i guess i'm just a bit bitter.

but i'll get over it soon enough.

what we had was, all things considered, good.

a good memory to be.

take from this what you may. its more for myself than anything else.

trying my hand at writing again. gimme your thoughts! on the writing and the content :)