477 w
angst, romance

He loved her when he couldn't even love himself. He still loved her now, and sometimes he still found it difficult to love himself.

Sometimes the monsters under his bed get so aggressive, they start crawling out of their hiding spaces and start to pull on his legs. Sometimes the anxiety and self-loathing gets so bad, it becomes a struggle to take a step out his door.

On days like these, he thinks of her. On days like these, he wishes he could run into her and be caught up in her embrace. You see, no one has ever been so happy to see him. No one has ever held him in a hug so tight, the broken pieces start sticking back together. She loved him when he couldn't even love himself.

To the first and only girl he has ever loved, she taught him what it's like to be at the receiving end of a one-way love street. When he believed that love was waiting at the dining table, waiting until the food gets cold, or until she comes home, or until his heart breaks into a million unrecognizable pieces, whichever comes first, she showed hi