I’m sorry for all the times I looked at you like an object when every moment of every day I argue why no one should ever do that.
I’m sorry for looking at your body and wishing I had the same one.
I’m sorry for making assumptions about you based on our differences.
I’m sorry for not paying enough attention to what you were saying because I was so worried about delivering a response that would make people like me the way they like you.
I’m sorry for talking about you positively at the expense of myself and I’m sorry about all the times I tried to build myself up with bricks that would tear you down.
I’m sorry for the negative comments about you that I might have agreed with, or failed to openly disagree with.
I’m sorry I tried to relate to you in a way that was dishonest to who I really am.
I’m sorry for not calling you beautiful more often and I’m sorry for deflecting any kind words you said to me rather than simply saying “thank you.”
I’m sorry for drawing generalized conclusions about “your type” instead of looking at you as an individual.
I’m sorry for blaming you for things that had only to do with me.
I’m sorry for being a less honest version of myself in exchange for being a less authentic version of you.
There is only one you, and there is only one me, and I can love them both for who they are and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to figure that out.
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