Love. A Tiny Little Word, With An Infinite Amount Of Meanings. Good Morning: I Love You. How Are You:

One day One…day… That day will come. What ever that one day means to you. Whether it be the day you choose to stay, Or the day you choose to leave. The day you choose them, Or the day you choose yourself. The day that scares you the most, Or the day you choose to be brave. There’s always that one day. I hope it finds you when you need it most.

I think you knew what you were doing this whole time. I hope I don’t get hurt in the end.

I whisper my secrets out into the universe.

The stars twinkle with laughter.

They share my joy and watch while this new adventure begins.

Do you realize how difficult it is for me to put myself first? I have lived in the shadow of everyone I have ever been with. I have made myself smaller trying to fit in and be everything that they need, always. 

Now, is the time for me. It took me thirty years to finally acknowledge this. I will lose people in doing so. I will have to put my own feelings ahead of everyone else. 

Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. How do I learn to not care about how I make everyone else feel? How do I do what I need to do to heal and become this better version of me? How do I even be me?

Who am I, really?  

You don't know this yet. You are my sunshine.

The smile I can feel from a whole country away, well it takes the breath out of me. You are beauty in the rawest form. Your eyes hold the earth, the soil and grass. I could get lost in them and not worry if I need to be found. I feel warmth getting to bask in your light. Your voice melts all the sorrows.

I am not one for words and ideas of affection, but when I feel the sun radiating everyday, you must be made aware.

I don't feel like ME anymore. If there ever was such a thing to begin with..

I believe in magic.

Not like the magic in fairytales, full of dragons and spells.

I believe in the magic of those small moments.

I believe in the magic of a dandelion growing in the crack of asphalt.

The moment between your inhale and my exhale.

Finding a constellation in the sea of millions of stars.

The way your eyes light up like a stormy sky.

The dew on the early morning grass.

Magic is what makes this world go ‘round.

I’m so thankful to be a part of these small magical moments.

platonic signs of devotion

I am hopelessly in love with you, but platonically. I want to hear from you every time something small happens throughout the day. I want to know when you think of me. I want to hold your hand and walk through a field of lavender. I want to hug you so tight, you will feel it for years. I want to cry on your shoulder and you wipe my tears away laughing that I could have drown you. I want to draw you so I can remember the curve of your cheek and how your eyes try to hide when you smile. i want to let you know that I have fallen in love with myself, because you have shown me that it is perfectly acceptable to be broken and still amazing. We are only humans in this impossibly large universe together and I will be thankful every hour of having met you.

I want to be one of those normal people.

I know what you’re thinking, ‘there’s no such thing as normal.’

There are people out there though, that don’t hesitate to walk out the door to go to a store. There are people that don’t fantasize about death. There are people who don’t have trauma or flashbacks and nightmares about what others have done to them.

I want to be one of those people that wasn’t diagnosed with a major depressive disorder at 17.

I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to try several medications just for them all to fail.

I want to be one of those people that doesn’t have an anxiety disorder, and has a hard time just leaving the house.

I want to be one of those people that didn’t have to go to a therapist, just to add PTSD to the list of mental disorders.

I want to feel like a person again, instead of a number of things wrong with me, that affect my day to day life.

Please. Just let me be..

Let me be a moth with soft papery wings.

The moon my muse, in the witching hours.

Only the strange can see my beauty.