In between cursing the air and puking by the plants, she asks me, “Do I deserve someone good?”
I answer, “Of course honey, of course…”
“But you know… I don’t think I’m good enough as a person to have that…”
Then she pukes again, now on my lap.
Love. The best form of cruelty the universe could offer.
It always starts as something harmless. Well, at least until it makes you dare to raise the expectation. To meet your expectation, you let your other half aware of it. Often by some arguments or even tears. Then you try to work it out, you compromise. But suddenly you feel as if you are not you. You’re tired, you’re worn out. You realise your expectation hasn’t changed ever since and probably it’s not match at all with what your other half wants. You’re now angry. After that sure comes the hate. Hate towards your partner? No.
You hate yourself, that’s when love completely changing into something cautious.
“Don’t question whether you’re a good enough person or not. Ask about how sincere you are in loving other.”
Now she’s holding my hand. And I… I hold hers back.