Friday, 25 October 2013

Fight with me, fight for me.

Do I matter to you? 

How many of us have thought, breathed, wrote, text, shouted those words at least once in our lives? Probably all of us. Well, I've actually been thinking about this a lot recently. I've noticed a pattern, at least in my life. I just know, personally, I can't be with someone who isn't willing to fight with me. I'm not talking a stroppy punch thrown here and there, because that's just out of order, I mean, verbally, emotionally. Maybe I sound really insecure, or paranoid, or stupid, but I need someone to fight with. Someone to scream with, spit vicious insults at, and for them to give as good as they get. I need to know that the passion is there. You only stop fighting for someone when you don't care about them any longer. When someone becomes passive to you and your life, that's when you need to worry. When I scream some nasty expletive at you when I'm half-cut and you're trying to be clever, or when I'm feeling upset and you fail to understand me, I need you to stand your ground, in more ways than one. I want you to say things you'll later wish you hadn't said, nasty outbursts that hide true, real feelings. I want the anger and the yelling and everything that shows me what I need to see; I'm worth fighting for. 

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