You know you are loved not by your ability to be something to someone, but rather by your ability to be nothing to them.
To be nothing special. To be nothing outstanding. To not be whole. To not be complete.
Everyone nowadays wants a complete something and someone, a neat little package, Mr. or Mrs. Perfect.
I am not that guy. I once was, but my illness set me free. It forced me to accept that I am a collection of broken shards held together by grace and mercy.
When you can be comfortable with the ghosts in your own closet, the demons in your basement, you are far more likely to find someone with the capacity not only to love you, but to help you tame/exorcize them.