Work Text:
How can you love something you made? How can you not? How can you look at something that you have every flaw of? How can you not see all of its beauty? Flaws that you didn’t notice, or tried to fix. Flaws that prove it as mine. How is it possible to fall in love with something you know, deeply and cruelly? How can you despise something that your own hands made? I hate it. I love it.
Everytime I see it, I remember my failures, I remember how bad I was, how uneducated and naive. Everytime I see it, I remember my accomplishments, I remember how much I learned, how much I’ve improved. It’s like a dark streak on my white page, showing everyone that I have failed once, and that I can do it again. It’s like footprints on the snow, showing everyone where I came from and how long I’ve walked to reach to this point. I want to hide it deep inside me, if I can not destroy it. I want to raise it high up in the air, and yell at people to look at it.
How do you do it?
How do you do it?
How can you Love it,
How can you Hate it,
If it’s a part of you?
If it’s a part of you?