You might mistake me to be unemotional and unresponsive;
But that’s only because I fail to articulate my emotions through mere words and you fail to realise the eloquence of my silence,
Not because I am a cold-hearted vacuous being who does not care.
How can I not care for the ones I love? How could you mistake my introversion and struggle with expression for insensitivity?
You might mistake me to be self-indulged and self-centred;
But that’s only because I dread disappointments and have mastered the art of self-preservation,
Not because I no longer crave for your presence in my life.
How could you not see that I have curled up into isolation to safeguard my fragility; that I am willing to expose my vulnerability if only you could be a little more patient?
You might mistake me to be dull and dispirited;
But that’s only because I am not exhilarated by unfamiliar crowded spaces or raucous music,
Not because I do not savour the company of my close confidants.
Sure, I need my private time to recharge and introspect more frequently. But does that mean I am not worthy of a healthy companionship? After all, no man is an island, right?
You might mistake me to be coarse and crude;
But that’s only because I am miserable at the art of small talk and deceptive acclamation,
Not because I do not regard you or your intellectual acuity enough.
Isn’t any real relationship, romantic or otherwise, supposed to be based on integrity and honesty rather than provision of false hopes and fulfilment of unrealistic expectations?
You might mistake me to be egotistical or egomaniacal;
But that’s only because I am mine before anyone else’s and do not look for alien validation,
Not because I esteem your opinion any less than mine.
Yes, it takes me a little while to realise, accept and redeem my foolhardy given that
you have challenged my vanity. But isn’t that better than blatant refusal to bend?
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