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“Your struggle is part of what makes you beautiful. You don’t see what I see. You don’t see the good person that I know that you are.”
Maybe the damaged are the easiest to fall in love with. She is damaged. Damaged in a strange way that has strength—a silent, don’t-open-that-door, watch-your-back-in-the-dark strength.
He doesn’t know why he loves her. But does anyone know why they love? We don’t love people for their traits—traits are common. We love them for their unique ability to tug at our soul, to connect to us in a way that no other person can. Love is unexplainable, unpredictable, and often unreasonable. It doesn’t make sense, and doesn’t care to explain to us its thought process.
