Don’t love an introvert if you are not prepared to embrace our eccentricities. You’d understand why we look fragile like a night breeze, soft like a passing wind but deadly like a tropical storm. We come with a warning of falling out of love ends you up to a suicide club. So, just don’t.
Don’t love an introvert. You’d be left mopping the floor and stitching broken holes. You’ll end up hating yourself more than you hate us. You’ll end up hating the world because the universe is between us. You’ll end up having nightmares during the night and having zombie moments during daylight. You’ll be talking to our imagined presence and smelling things we’ve touched. Again, don’t.
We don’t argue for the sake of conversations. We don’t incite thoughts and challenge ideas for the sake of small talks. The sad part is we always take a moment to think and appreciate things so don’t come running into our thoughts when you’re not prepared to be ignored. Don’t tell us we’re making a mountain out of a molehill. That we make issues over trivialities because we do not. It is our way of understanding you and meeting you halfway.
I promise that you’ll be exasperated not just once or twice. We’ll argue over things with an intensity of leaving you exhausted. We’ll label you insecure and needy. We’ll call you shallow and superficial. We’ll tell things as we see it and how we see it. We act less but when we say it, we mean it.
I am telling you that you’ll never go back. You’d be pushed to rediscover yourself and question everything about yourself. Don’t love us unless you’re able to see and feel through us. Unless you’re able to comprehend our thoughts and read our actions.
Don’t love an introvert because we’re difficult to love. But, don’t love anyone at all if you don’t love yourself first. Love when you’re no longer insecure. Love when you’re no longer looking for someone to complete you. Love when you’re no longer drifting. Because you’ll never get us. You’ll never understand us. Not in a million years. Not now, not ever.