You Don’t Deserve Me

 

You don’t deserve me because I am beautiful – not just inside, but outside too. I’m beautiful because I am comfortable in my own skin. I am beautiful because I try to be the best person I can be. I am beautiful because I shine through all my imperfections. And I have a feeling that you only see superficialities. And maybe you only want me or don’t want me because of them. But either way, you don’t deserve me.

You don’t deserve because I am smart. Not because of any predictable tests or the qualities I list on a resume. I am always thinking about the world in a different way; I look at people and places through a myriad of perspectives. And that is what makes me smart. I see that nothing is a sum total of anything and I see fluidity in life and in concepts and in people. And maybe you can’t see what I see, the way I see it. And it doesn’t make me better or you worse. But when you fail to realize it, I am reminded it’s because you don’t deserve me.

You don’t deserve me because I am funny. I try to make everyone laugh, even at my own expense. Laughter is as important as breathing; and no matter how serious life gets, I’ve always promised that I would remind those around me that life is to be enjoyed. I would make you laugh when you’re bored, when you’re tired; even when you’re tired of me. Or I’d make you laugh in those moments, when all you want to do is cry. And you’d find out that most of all, the way I laugh would make you laugh, most of all. But you might never find out, because you don’t deserve me.

You don’t deserve me because I am an enigma. I am sad sometimes but wonderfully sad; sad with hopeful eyes. And when I am happy, I am the happiest person you’ll ever know: Embracing life in every way, transforming into an innocent child, blissfully unaware of life’s difficulties. I am careful and carefree, outgoing and pensive, spontaneous and scared; a fighter and a lover, a foolish adolescent, yet a wise old soul; guarded by so many walls yet willing and wanting to open up in the safety of a genuine heart. But this is more than you need to know because you don’t deserve me.

You don’t deserve me because I am one of a kind. I am spectacular. I am the person that you’ll never forget. I am not always remembered fondly, I’m not always the one that would have gotten away; but I am always remembered. I leave an imprint, a mark, a memory, everywhere I go. I like to think that it’s my charisma, it’s my charm; it’s my ability to be imperfect and simple yet iridescent at the same time. But none of this means anything now because you don’t deserve me.

In the end, you don’t deserve me because you couldn’t be the person I needed you to be. And perhaps I couldn’t be the person you wanted me to be. Maybe romance and love is not supposed to be what you and I have. Maybe I just tell myself that I am a prize that you didn’t deserve to have, because you weren’t worthy; when really, you were never even contending. Maybe you don’t deserve me. But maybe I don’t deserve you either. But mostly, I still find myself believing and dreaming and wishing that at least, we both deserve to know.

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