He was conflicted. He didn't know whether to be mad or sympathetic and caring. He didn't know who to be mad at. He didn't know how to communicate his point across. He thought he was being clear enough. He's mad at other people, the people who had made you think this way. He's mad at you for being so God damn stubborn. Why couldn't you just see yourself the way he saw you? Why couldn't you atleast accept his words and feelings for truth? Why did you refuse to accept and trust his love for you? Why did you always push him away? Why were you so afraid? He wants to tear the people that made you think like this limb from limb, but you're stubbornness also made him frustrated at you. Maybe if he told you louder or more often you'd finally believe him. Maybe if he followed you around and refused to let you isolate yourself then you'd let him in. He wanted to make you feel beautiful. He wanted to love you, he does love you. He wanted to shower you with love. He wanted to love you so much, so publicly, that it made other people sick with jealousy.

"Why won't you let me in?" He questions. "Why are you so determined to shut me out? I mean it. I mean all of it. I love you, every single part of you, no matter how fucked up you claim to be. Things that have happened to you may be fucked up, but that doesn't make you a bad person. It makes them bad people, it makes me want to rip anyone from your past apart. Nothing you could say or do could make me leave. I want you. I want all of you, the good, the bad. Just let me in. Let me love you, please." He speaks from behind you. Your back is turned to him, you're stood in your doorway and you were just about to shut him out again before you paused to listen to him.