Let Me Love You At Your Worst!

Watson: Why is she like this?

Sherlock: Because you chose her.

The moment I watched this scene, I knew it was going to be the best part of the entire episode. It indeed did.

I vividly remember asking myself countless times, “Why did I choose you of all people? Could I not choose someone better?”

But I chose you.

I chose trouble. I chose disorder. I chose pain.

I chose you. Because you keep me emotionally alive. I chose my stupidity over shrewdness.

And for all intents and purposes, I fell in love with you and there isn’t a better way of expressing this, I reckon. I want to love you at your worst.

I want to love you when you crease your forehead because of the hot summer heat, I want to love you when you freak out because the food doesn't get delivered on time, and I want to love you when you are majorly disappointed with someone in your life. I will not brush it aside as a quarter-life crisis.

I will love you when you are tired and I know I must suffer the repercussions. I will love you and put up with all your whims and caprices. I will love you when things do not work out. I will love you even when I realize that you are pushing me away for my own good. I will love you even when you are going through a major trauma. I will love you because I know I want to be your strongest even at your weakest.

I want to love you when you break down, I will hold your arm, and stand by your side. I want to love you when you want me to hold you because you miss someone. I want to love you in your failure even when I am not with you in your victory. No matter whoever is with you in your happiness, I want to love you in your turmoil and despair; hopelessness and melancholy. I want to love you in your insecurities and dire straits. 

I want to love you like how a certain writer would love his first book, like how a painter would love his most underrated yet precious piece of work, like how a musician would love a tune that brings back all his best memories I will love you like how a poet would love his tragedy. I want to love you like how Moon would love the Sun. I want to love you like how an alcoholic holds on to his pain. 

I want to love you a little more. A little more with every passing day.

So, would you let me love you at your worst? Just let me.