Maybe, well just maybe, I'm at fault because I love the little things.
I seldom go for the extravagant neither grand surprises. I'm the kind that liked minute details. The one fascinated with small or petty information. And often, more than ever, I'm the type that root for small acts of kindness.
And I guess, that's why I'm known as easy.
I'm that easy because I cherish tiny gestures. I'm that easy to fall for lingering stares. I'm that easy to smile or even laugh at lousy attempts of breaking what's awkward. I'm that easy because I appreciate those slight glint in people's eyes whenever they tell their own stories. I'm that easy since I never wanted to complicate anything at all. I'm that easy because I'm not hard to please so I end up being taken for granted instead. I’m that easy, that no one can ever see me as worth as a challenge anymore.
And probably, that's the reason why I keep on breaking my heart apart. It hurts when I get to fall despite the little chance of being chosen.
It stings because I believe there's something more to short replies and one word answers however irrelevant they are to some. It aches because I am fairly simple and no one puts extra effort to win me over anymore. It pains since I knew what I truly wanted, but I get to love whatever's right in front of me no matter how small it offers.
Maybe, just maybe, that's why I attract the least of all things. I compromise as much as I can, just to fill in the gaps of flaws and deficiencies. It's just a bit sad that everyone gets everything, and only the extras are left with me. I knew I must not complain, I understand it well enough. But sometimes, it just gets to me.
Sometimes, I wanted to set those high barricades of my forgotten standards. At times, I wished to be of high maintenance as well. Because at certain moments, I wanted to feel that I am the bigger picture too. That I love the little things, because a part of me understands I am somewhat miniscule. And the time will come when somebody would be great enough to make me huge anyway.
But maybe, I am just stubborn. I am filled with this undying belief that someday, this shallowness to the many, will be seen in a different perspective to the deserving few. And that, only the chosen one will be able to see the depth of the little things I get to fancy too.