Love letter

One day I wrote you a letter.

You didn't want to take it. But then you couldn't really refuse; if you had done so, it would have justified The Trait we never talk about. You know, about how people see what they want to see rather than what is in front of them.

So you took the letter and read it, albeit reluctantly. Why did it upset you? And why do you always have to attack when you are defensive? Your "You complicate things!" still rings in my head.

And the letter?

"I am who I choose to be. And I don't apologise for being myself. I love myself. Yeah, of course, love you too sweetie."