If you are going to fall in love with me, it’s only fair that you know what you are falling in love with.
You are falling in love with my insecurities, and my obsession with trying to figure out what everyone thinks of me, though I don’t care in the end. You are falling in love with my immaturity, my constant need to feel loved and appreciated, my overactive tear ducts, my internet obsession, my tendency to be real crazy. You fall in love with my troubled past, and my hopes and dreams, and how I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. If you fall in love with me, you fall in love with my self-hate and all my imperfections and my perception that nobody could ever love me.
But you are also falling in love with the way my eyes will smile when I’m with you, the way I’ll text you in the mornings just telling you I hope you have a great day. You’re falling in love with occasionally humorous and/or thought-provoking things I say, and the way I blush when people ask me about you. But to me, the most important thing will be that you are falling in love with me, despite my thinking that it is impossible.