I am going to disappoint. Sooner or later I'm going to get mad at the smallest things and nag for attention. I am going to be jealous of certain things. I am going to mess up and maybe not be what you've expected me to be. I say the most random things and tell the lousiest jokes. I am going to be the most vulnerable when I admit that I'm wrong, so please don't take advantage of it. I would be very fragile when it comes to what I feel, and sometimes tears only mean unspoken words. I need my quiet moments where I don't want to talk to anyone, and I prefer if you'd understand that I need some space. I am never going to regret the fact that I'm not perfect, but if you deal with my imperfections and chose to love me for it, I am forever yours

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