I thought to myself yesterday morning that I know I am difficult to love. Sometimes I am enigmatic to the point that I will even confuse and surprise myself. It's not on purpose, my mind is just so vast and full of wonder. There are too many mysteries to not contemplate. I can also see how my optimism and idealism may foster a facade of expectation. And so I thought, yes, I might be okay accepting that I am difficult to love, and that there are probably few men that would choose to love me over some who is more.... easy? That's not the right word. But it is.

Then I read this morning: you are kind, and patient, and easy to love - accept it! Be calm and happy.

It was nice to read. I still absolutely believe there are certain people who are less work to love than others. But I don't know how to be anything other than me.