I make excuses for his behavior knowing they are excuses. I find the good in the bad, and I call it great, addicted to everything that leaves his mouth. I’ve gotten used to his erratic behavior accepting his short fuse because nothing feels safer than being in his arms. It’s a comfort I’ve never known that I can’t seem to fully understand. I know we don’t stand a chance and a happy ending isn’t how this ends, but still, I go back for more, craving the comfort of his grasp.
So much about us doesn’t work. It hasn’t worked before, it doesn’t work now, and it’s likely going to stay that way. But still, when our eyes lock, everything else disappears. He looks into my eyes, and my heart stops for just a moment. The butterflies and other insects roam around inside my stomach. My heart begins to beat again, only faster to make up for the pause.
His irrationality is contagious as I find myself was drawn to every part of him that’s good. I ask questions even if answers have been what’s hurt me in the past. I keep asking wanting to dive deeper into his mind knowing it may be an unsafe territory.
I don’t think of a future with us as I obsess over our past and present. I keep on giving him attention because I know I’ll get the same in return. It’s hard for me to tell him exactly how I feel and it’s even harder for him to say to me. We’re directly indirect sparking miscommunication and disagreements, yet still, I’ve never felt the depth before that I’ve grappled with him. I love his flaws because I love him. I love him even if he doesn’t love me back. I love him even if he does. It makes sense that it doesn’t make sense. He takes me to a place where my daily worries disintegrate beneath me, and unfamiliar excitement appears.
He’s wrong in every way, but I love every moment we get together. He’s a bad habit that I can’t seem to break and don’t seem to want to break.
I can’t help but love him, even if I know he doesn’t belong in my life. I can’t help but want the very best for him even if he’s brought me to feel some of my darkest moments. He traveled with me to both ends of the spectrum, and the history will always be there. Hating him hurts me while loving him hurts me too.
So I’m screwed either way and leave it to time to steer me in the right direction. I know at some point he’ll be a distant memory, but he’ll always be a memory that lives inside of me.
I don’t wish to change him to better my wants and needs because I put his well-being before my own. He’s all wrong for me, but I love him anyway.