I think you refuse me simply because I don’t give you any reasons to.
I told you I didn’t care about your past or about your afflictions
I told you that I would accept your flaws and show you love because of them.
I told you that I would respect you unlike anyone who you’ve known.

And yet now I’m the imperfectd counterpart of whom can’t receive love.

I guess I’m oxymoronic.
Because I’m so eager to accept the flaws of people who won’t accept mine.