And then I realized I liked the idea
of her more than I
actually liked her
because what she
gave me was
all that there
was to her. There were
no deeper
secrets hidden
beneath the exterior,
nothing waiting to be explored;
there were no stories behind
the scars she had.
She wasn't the type
of person who
had things
that could only be
discovered
by those
willing to get
close to her
and patient
enough to wait for those things
to reveal themselves.
She was the type
of person who gave
you what she had and I felt
ungrateful because to me
what she had wasn't deep
enough.
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