I steal things. Not in the shoplifting or criminal way, but little things, like the round blue magnet on your fridge or the handpainted chopsticks at my favorite Chinese restaurant. I especially like your grey sweatshirt, unless you didn’t know I have that. But I will always tell you what I’ve taken, even if I don’t give it back.
I know what I want. I don’t mean that I’m goal oriented or ambitious or even selfish, because I’m not. I mean that if I want to watch Hercules instead of Fight Club, or go to Taco Bell and not Jimmy John’s, I will tell you so, even if I want something kind of weird, like to draw on your knee with highlighters.
I don’t care what people think of me. I don’t believe in social standards. I won’t fashion my behavior to simulate some invisible social model you believe in. So don’t ask me to.
I won’t behave well, and I will embarrass you in public, especially if you are easily embarrassed. I will reach across the table to play with your hair at classy restaurants, and stop to kiss you in the middle of the street, even if people are watching.
I like it when people are watching me. I will be loud and inappropriate and I will enjoy every minute of it. I don’t intend to make you uncomfortable, but don’t expect me to stop what I’m doing if you are.
I expect a reply to every message I send you, and I will text you when you’re asleep. And I will get upset if I don’t get a text back, even if there isn’t anything reasonable to say in reply.
My greatest insecurity is that you won’t accept me this way. I know that I’m crazy and a lot to take in, and I’m very, very afraid that one day it will become too much for you to handle. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to change. Hell no. Because if you can’t deal with me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.
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