that time they projected perfection on me, aka a twisted honeymoon love

I try my best to be me when a person first meets me. 

One day, I met this girl.  I wanted her to like me, as a friend.  Then as more.   And I…was too much.

I do this with everyone.  Those I have no interest in, beyond a hello.  Those I hope to fall in love with one day.  I don’t do it on purpose, though, the oversharing. I do keep a little of me back. But I also don’t lie about who I am.  Of course some seem to see all of me, anyway, but others…struggle to see beyond what they want to see in me.

I guess, though, that’s not always easy for others to understand. Others, who had different life experiences than I have. How quickly I fall into what I want.  That I mean everything I say.  They feel pressure to say things they don’t mean, and they assume I do, too.

But it ended up all wrong.

They think I’m…I don’t know.  It’s not how I think.  But maybe when they do see my flaws, perhaps it is a shock. The discrepancy between fantasy and reality.

I don’t know what happened.  One day I was “utterly amazing” and “beautiful” and “worthy of everything.”  The next, I was responsible for everything wrong in their life.  I was lazy, stupid, horrible.  I wasn’t good enough to even say goodbye.

But I thought she was like me.  When she wanted everything, all at once.  I thought she was the one who falls in to love as easily as I do.  But it turns out I need the skeptic, the one that takes time.

I chose to allow myself to be flattered.

Never again.

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