And it was just around the end of winter when dead leaves fell to the ground, and every petal, every leaf, started gaining color that I asked you what it was like to have it all change.
And you smirked, the same old smirk that always threw me standing on the tip of my toes, and I just wanted to tell you, then. That I didn’t need anything else but you. I wanted every bit of you, endearing. Every bit, mysterious and just taunting. I wanted the ugly and I wanted the bad. I wanted to see you at your worst and have you whisper secrets through my ear when they’d have all ran as far away as possible because it would be too overwhelming to understand.
You were the kind of change I needed, and if I had lost all my sanity trying to understand you, and hope for the best of you, of us, it would all have been worth it.
We would have been worth it.