I want to be understood
I long to be understood. That feeling of being known. Not being told you're a mystery, an anomaly, or a puzzle to solve. When someone just gets you. And not in the false way either, where a person makes associations and comparisons to those they've known before and believes to know so much more about you than they really do. But where as you spend time with them, it feels as though the strings between you have always been there, pulling you closer, and you're simply now uncovering them. Where silence is comfortable and every conversation is left to be enjoyed without the need for repetitive explanation.
But being understood does not mean being appreciated. Understanding math, being able to solve the problems, does not mean loving it. Someone's ability to pay attention and to discern meaning, does not equal their pleasure in doing so.
And I want both. I want someone who in knowing how I process thought, finds it beautiful. Who will explore and delight in my discovery and growth. I want to be loved for who I am. Often it feels as though I can only take a persons declared likeness of me to a certain degree. Because if you don't really know me, how much can you really love me. It feels superficial. Surface level. As though your liking for me will fade if you discover there's something more and it's not as simple as what you first encountered. As though you only like what you think you see.
Because I am more than any box I can be put into. More than any line I can fill on a list. I am my belief in myself. I am my desired takeaway from each of my experiences. I am nothing less and nothing more than me. I want someone to know that and love me for it.