I’m sorry for being such a hopeless romantic, but I just can’t help it.
Our journey isn’t really all that sparkly bubbly roses all the time. Nope, it totally isn’t all that. We aren’t always that cute to each other, talking in baby language, smiling randomly, video calling in the middle of work, or doing many other adorable activity.
There were times when we met the lowest point of our relationship so far. We, the people who doesn’t say anything serious lightly, split. We decided–perhaps halfheartedly–to leave all that we had built together. At the time, we thought we’re better off without each other.
When we’re not.
We’re miserable on our own. It’s not that we can’t live on our own. We can. We’re a pretty independent person, I might say. It’s just, I don’t know. Don’t you know what I mean? Even though you can be on your own, you can do most things by yourself, you need a person to come home to. Right?
At least, that’s what I felt.
I know, I’m not the very best person perhaps to be your partner. Apparently, I’m not that girl who likes cleaning up, setting up your food on the table, or doing any act of service. I’m also a girl that easily gets angry and cries for no reason. I can be hard to handle. I have a hard time to listen to things I don’t want to listen, or to things that doesn’t sound right to what I believe in. Whenever things don’t go my way, I grumble. You know, the lists go on.
And you? Sometimes, you can be unbearable. You can go without any news or any chat for hours and suddenly asking where I am innocently. You’re not good in time efficiency. For some (or even most of) things, you don’t think the way I do. Your love of sweet soy sauce that you put it on top of every food you eat. You are annoying, that’s your name.
Nevertheless, I love you.
And you love me.
For all I care, this far,
this is enough.