My Apologies

I'm sorry madame. I don’t mean to be difficult or discomforting, I just felt it needed to be said. I think you’re wonderful, that’s just my opinion. 

My apologies that your arms when circled round me feel like a halo, complete and holy, you, like goddess, become my healer and saviour but I suppose now that you brought up the contours of you nose that you wish to alter, the pale hue to your skin that you wish was darker, I guess I can’t find you brilliant.  

I'm so sorry that your elation sends sounds of sweet music to me, It echoes like flint striking against my steel heart strings, an instrument plucking and sparking out crescendos of inspiration and passion. But, like you said, you feel anxious talking to unfamiliar people. You wish you weren't so awkward, so I guess I'm being silly.  

I don’t mean to irritate you, I just feel if your eyes could see what my eyes see in your eyes, I wouldn't be alone in thinking the only thing that could compliment them perfectly would be your smile. Rare and precious like silver. Achieving this small expression of happiness send my synapses firing further than any artificial ’high’. But when you put it that way. You say you’re a broken woman and undeserving of my love.  

Should I feel Sorry for loving you…  

No. No!  I'm sorry that I think so highly of you that it feels like an assault to my person when you put yourself down, sell yourself short, think of yourself as anything less then brilliant. 

 I am at war with your insecurities. In dessert, my only oasis of salvation will be your happiness. I will be unapologetic when I tell you, you deserve happiness. Resolute and unfaltering when I sing your praises. 

 I am some kind of chocolate skin titan, breaking out in fits of   "You don’t need to feel this way!” “I want you to love yourself like I do”   This colossus will come crashing through the foundations of “I need to be thinner” “I'm really not worth it”. Every challenge you make to the circumference of your stomach will be met with a kiss on the forehead. Every tear will do battle with my reassurance. 

I'm sorry. Because to beat your enemies you must understand how they think. Which is why when you screamed out “I'm not normal”, tears in your eyes and absolution in your throat as if it would be your final message to the world, pleading for reconciliation… which is why when you took blade to skin, a malicious surgeon trying to correct your delusions, I did too.   

I had to touch Empathy because I’d never felt Empathy! My apologies that I couldn't do more. But don’t doubt for a second that you are loved. Drunk on hypocrisy.  The amount of time I took apologizing for my imperfections was beaten only by the amount of time I took finding ways to thank for what you thought were your own.  

The End

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