What I saw was the “could-be” version of her.
Not the “current”.
I fell for the demo version of her, because she was worried her reality would make me turn away.
I can’t blame her. Maybe I would have run. Maybe I would have stayed, and helped put back her broken frame, piece by piece, till she resembled the perfection that my Creator made her to be.
Either way. I did stay.
In love with the reality in front of me.
Looking at her naked self, as she strives to preserve what little shell she has left, because her last companion left her with the damages and walked out of her life.
So I roll my sleeves up, retrieving some glue and some sandpaper in hopes that I could assist in making her whole again.
But she doesn’t want me.
So I’m here.
And I don’t know what to do.