I think that the person who is best fit to love you isn’t someone who makes you feel the happiest, but someone who makes you feel the biggest, the most. Even when you become jagged and figuratively cut him like the broken glass you are, he will still, and always be, in awe of how fucking stunning you look, shining in the light, colours bouncing off your broken tips into the world around you; he wouldn’t even care if he bled to death.