Why I’m not perfect

I’m short. You like tall girls. At least you used to.

I cut my hair. You liked it better long even though you never mentioned it.

My skin used to be really bad. It’s better now, but not perfect.

Three times you had to watch me, ever so slowly, lose the baby weight and get back into shape. That’s just not sexy.

For a long time I didn’t want you to have fun without me because I was scared that you wouldn’t need me anymore.

I like weird, sometimes long and boring movies. I make you watch them with me and then sometimes I fall asleep.

I don’t let you finish your thoughts when we’re talking.

I push you to be better at things even though you are already fulfilled at them.

When I get angry I am very self-righteous.

I am changing the game on you.