Her and I, and we.
Going through my memories on this blue screen,
The words echoing a past full of pain, self-doubt, and insecurity.
My heart aches for her, this girl.
For she is me. Her and I, and we.
Desperately wishing to be all a man could need. Unable to see, the problem wasn't at loves door.
It burrowed deep inside of her.
If you know me, you may remember knowing her.
I remember her.
I remember hurting her, starving her, punishing her.
Hell-bent on changing her into the perfect world.
Her, and I.. And we.
As we walked all the long, lonely roads.
So many times, I had no idea if we'd ever survive.
This girl, her and I.. And we.
I abused her, allowed her to be used in such vile ways.
But still, her and I walked through storm after storm together, the only shoulder upon to lean was our own.
Her and I, we made it through as I learned.
I don't hurt her anymore, somewhere in
between being her and becoming me, her and I, became just we.
When I learned to love all the pieces, that make me, me.
Bad and good, they belong to me because they are me.
I work on turning them into what I want, for me, and only me, and that's okay.
We may never reach perfection, but who wants to be perfect?
I just want to be me.
To you who had to watch as I tore myself apart, over and over again, while I made mistake after mistake, trying to find what was missing.
I thank you.
Thank you for Loving me, even though I couldn't love myself.