I Hate Love

Just love me. Yes, you, with the mismatched clothes and the kind of hair color that can’t be described. Yes, you with the acne on your chin and the beautiful eyes and perfect hands. I just want you to hold me in your arms and to tell me that I’m beautiful. I want to describe the way that our lips will meet and linger and I want to explain the magnificent way you look at me. I want you to whisper in my ear and kiss my neck and I want you to drive me home and tell me that you’ll miss me. I want you to call me in the morning just so you can talk to me and I want you to never want to cheat. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want to tell you that I love you too. I want to hold your big hands as we walk down the hallway and I want people to tell me that we’re cute together. I want to call you when I’m sad or lonely and I want you to make it all right. I want to take your face in my hands when you’re sad and I want to tell you that it’ll be ok and I want to kiss you to explain that it will. There’s something in my chest that aches for you. You’re the image of a perfect human being, despite your flaws. So maybe you don’t always do your homework, and maybe you sometimes get drunk, but I don’t care. It’s the flaws in people that make them wonderful, and I know that somewhere inside of you, you’re really good. So please, when you see me, talk to me and tell me about your life, or ask me a question, and I want you to see in my eyes that I love you, and I want you to realize that you love me back. And from there, and from then on, just love me. But you won't.