reasons why

(Not necessarily about me, just something I've been thinking about.)

His charm and his mind. That's why she loved him, for these things and also for him, for all of him. For what he was and for everything he could be. She did love him, more than either of them fully recognized. And that love had become so tangled in the branches of her emotions and of herself that it could no longer be extracted, but was there to stay. She had always been competitive by nature, had always wanted to be the best, smartest, and in this case, the most loving. At the beginning, she had loved him, absolutely and exhaustively, but with little recognition from him. Or, at least not the recognition she felt she deserved, the admission from him that she loved him better than any other woman had or could. She kept loving him anyway, and the best way she knew to love was to forgive. And so she did. She held on, held on to him, the last autumn leaf hoping that by refusing to fall, it can prevent the harsh realities of winter. It was her means to an end, the day he would realize the sacrifices she made for him, the unselfish forgiveness extended. Who else would love him that way, and forgive all that had been done. This would be her final victory, to give him this unreturnable gift, asking nothing in return. Asking nothing out loud, at least. He loved her to, but she never fully knew this. She asked little of him, so that's what he gave.

But she finally found another, one who also loved her. Again, she asked nothing of him. It was the only way she knew how to love, to give everything and ask for nothing. So that's what she asked, but this time he gave everything. She was no longer competing against an imaginary woman, someone who could give him everything he wanted. Because he wanted her, not for what she gave him, but partly for the person she was and mostly for the person she was becoming. And she finally knew how to love and to be loved.