This has been one of my faves since I was about thirteen. It seems befitting somehow – a troubled, insecure little thing feeling unworthy of any attention and affection. It still is. At times I still fail to understand why would somebody love me. Wit, they say. The rare persona, they say. The billion-dollar smile, they say. The intense eyes, they say. The softness, they say. The vulnerability, they say. Smart mouth with plentiful of sarcastic banters, they say.
Not I say.
I say, see what she does to herself. See her destructive nature. See the effed-up crap that she is. See her penchant for all things destructive. See her addiction to breaking herself. See the untamed beast underneath. Look into her eyes – if only you could understand the pain and regret she holds in each of her gaze. If only you could read the unworthiness she carries everyday. The self-insufficiency. The vulnerability.
So if you tell her she will be loved…