You are not perfect. Far from that.
Yet whenever I grow sick of the imperfection around, I instantly catch myself yearning for you.
I...crave you, long for you, pine for you.
After long intervals of not having given you or your memories any place in my thoughts,
I think of you in a way that makes me feel like I had never abandoned your memories for a single second
all this while.
I am strong enough; enough to solve all my problems myself.
At least when I feel I may not be up to it this time, I don't run to anybody with my problem.
I keep the burden to myself.
Yet the desire to hold you and cry in your arms in such moments is almost violent.
I fervently feel the need to unburden myself- but not to anybody else other than you.
They say there are no contradictions in this world.
They say when you face a contradiction, check your premises for one of them must be wrong.
Which of my premises is wrong?
That you are not perfect? Or that I am not mad?