You’re too good to me

I haven’t had it before. None of this. None of him.

I know why he came into my life– despite my initial reservations, and common classifications and rivers of fear. For the first time ever, I have someone who is purely, unashamedly good to me. Too good to me.

I acknowledge now what I deserve. I understand what I need. I know I’ll no longer be with just anyone, no longer be with those kids who don’t treat me right. I can only be with someone like him. Someone who calls me, calls me back, tries to see me, doesn’t disappear, he never disappears. Who is so constant, and kind and thoughtful. From day one. Who tells me we are so compatible, so similar. And his words are always so right. Who stays even when I push him away. When I tell him we should be realistic. When I tell him we won’t work out. Who still tries to be with me. Who listens and doesn’t force me. Who looks at me with awe, and wants me at every step, and makes me so comfortable when he’s around me. Who sees only the good in me, even when I do things the wrong way. Who teaches me how to be better, how to do better. Who makes me aim so high, makes me chase my dreams. Who has taught me so much about decency, and humans and relationships. Just by being with me. And being so good to me.

I am so thankful for that. And for him. So grateful, for him.

I once told him, “You know when we see each other on a new day, its awkward between us, maybe we aren’t so compatible, maybe it isn’t so natural for us.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head, “It’s me, I’m likely making it awkward. It’s just when I see you, I don’t know what to do with my hands, and I know you don’t want me to put my arms around you, just yet.”

It took me two decades and countless jerks to find him.

And now I found him. Finally, I found him.

Miss Mess

xoxo

 

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About iheartmess

A Middle Eastern Londoner 20-something living the 'western' life in between London and home.
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