got me trippin'

Essa semana a gente andou brigando muito. E feio. Não era só com ele o meu péssimo humor. Tinha muito menos com suas ações do que com as minhas, na realidade. Meu anjo, às vezes fico assim, muda, monossilábica, sem graça, brava, agressiva, diferente do que você conhece e tem apreço. Estou melhorando. E entenda bem, você me ajuda nesse processo. Essa sua cabeça racional, esse saber que nada é o fim do mundo, que o dia seguinte tá aí esperando para dar a volta por cima. Sem dúvida, não tem mais volta. È complicado me imaginar sem você.

But you gotta understand that sometimes all I can ask for is reassurance. Not your logic opinion and point of view. I want to be that spoiled little brat that cries for no reason and wants to be cuddled. Wants to be tucked in at night, when the lights are out and your fingers play on my hair. I want to be reassured that you picked me, that you love me for whatever reason you do, despite my bad humor, my bad temper, my body, my clothes, my family or my history. But at the same time I want you to make sure that you will stick next to me, that you will be my safe port whenever I need to make a drastic move in my life (and that you will continue to do so when I am all different). That you are the person taking the lead, moving side by side me to the next direction. Making me feel safe and warm in your arms.
I have to let go of all this internal crap and trust everything will be okay. I'm so in love and so lucky to have you on my side, even when it seems we're looking at it from different angles.