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The thing about loving a genuine person is that you're entitling someone to hurt you in any way possible.
Genuine people can't lie.
They present their feelings to you on an open book, as raw as it is.
The words from a genuine person can be beautiful;
the sheepish words that spill
have the ability to ignite a warm fuzzy feeling in the bottom of your stomach,
the way "i love you", sounds on the lips,
how you truly believe it in that split moment.
and possibly, moments after.
It is wonderful to love a genuine person.
When things decide to skew off track however,
there are no defenses that can hold it's blow.
No honey coated words to soften the ruthless truth,
no matter how hard he tries to make it sound better.
The truth is as it is.
The bitterness of the
pain
presented in it's rawest form,
an open wound,
in your face.
Loving a genuine person is loving without anesthesia;
no one is going to lie to you and say
"It's not you, it's me".
The truth is as it is,
"It is you, It is me.
Maybe a bit more of you, than me."