reexamining “would you still love me if i was a worm?”
would i still love you if you were helpless, couldn’t do things for me ever, and didn’t fit the stereotypical beauty standard for the rest of your life?
would i still love you if you felt small and were scared, and that never changed?
would i still love you if you always needed help, so much help, to do everything?
would i still love you if you couldn’t help me like you wanted to, if you could never carry me like i carry you?
would i still love you if you needed help, always and forever, with what others consider the simplest of tasks?
would i still love you if you didn’t look how people say you should, and if you didn’t look how you wanted to?
would i still love you if you weren’t perfect?
what about if you were a worm? worms can’t move much, or far, not without help. worms do not fit into beauty catalogues. worms cannot help with tasks that would hurt them, as they are to small, and easily crushed.
i am not saying you are a worm, my love, but i am saying i love you. even when you aren’t perfect. when you struggle, when you need help, when you’re upset with yourself. when you feel small. yes, i do still love you when you are helpless. i won’t stop. you can’t make me.
i know you’d love me if i was a worm to.