Everything To Me

You tell me that I’m amazing to you. That I’m your everything. That I mean the world to you. And I can’t understand it. You say these things and I can’t help but wonder if you realize who you’re talking to. Because if it was really me to whom you were speaking, those accolades wouldn’t be escaping your lips. I filter myself so you only see the good parts of me. And thus the person you like, the person you think you love is not really me. It’s the me I want you to see. The me without flaws. The me without error. The me who always knows what to do and what to say. If you were any other guy I wouldn’t even care. But you’re you and I love you. So I tell you that I’m not who you think I am and you tell me that you already know. Because when I wasn’t aware that you were watching, you were. And when I didn’t know you were listening, you were. And so you saw those times when the true me was showing and you heard the vulnerable side of me when I spoke. And still you tell me that I’m amazing to you. That I’m your everything. That I mean the world to you. And I’m amazed at your ability to overlook my imperfections because that’s something even I can’t do.

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