Do you even see me, or do you see only what you want to see? Picking out the pieces of my personality and thoughts that best fit the puzzle you've created in your mind.
"We love all the same things!" You think as we smile over the most generic of interests. But scratch the surface, and you see paths that don't intersect at all. You toss boulders of information to detour my path towards yours, and find yourself frustrated when I playfully dodge the boulders and carry on my way.
When my moods turn cold, you think it's an invitation, a request for warmth. The reality is never what you want to hear—cold is where I wish to be. Your attempts at weighing me down with blankets only result in a frost too icy to thaw.
You want to rescue the princess; be her knight in shining armor. But you never stopped to wonder if I might be the dragon instead, breathing fire when my scales feel the slightest ruffle. Or perhaps I'm the evil queen, smiling and feeding you poison, one sweet drop at a time. Or maybe I was never part of that story because I was too lost looking for my own damsel without the distress.
You pick at the pieces, wondering why they don't fit; they slide close together but never quite click. The answer is obvious, but you still don't see it. The puzzle you're creating is flat, two-dimensional dim. You'll never see the full version of me as long as you stay blind to only your weak fantasy.
***