Still So Full of Love

I overthink everything, turn simple sentences into puzzles I can't solve, replay conversations until they blur into something they never actually were.

I'm easily triggered, carry old wounds just beneath the surface, where the smallest thing can reach in and make them bleed all over again.

I know I'm hard to love, hard to understand, way beyond sensitive, a heart that feels everything at full volume when the world expects whispers.

I require patience most people don't have room for, gentleness that takes time to learn, softness that doesn't come with an instruction manual.

But my love is like no other.

I promise you the world even as mine is falling apart, give you my last light while I'm still learning how to find my own way in the dark.

I am still so full of love, despite everything that tried to empty me, still keep my heart pure in a world that handed me every reason to let it harden.

I don't give up on people until I have no choice left, hold on long after holding on stops making sense, because that's who I am, someone who loves like it's the only language she knows how to speak fluently.

I know I'm a lot. I know I ask for more patience than most people are willing to give.

But if you stay, if you learn the way I love, you'll find there's nothing else like it,

a love that overthinks because it cares too much, that triggers easily because it's been hurt too many times to stop protecting itself, that gives everything even while breaking, that stays even when leaving would be easier.

I am hard to love, but I love hard, and maybe that's the trade worth making.