The way I talk. The way I read.
The way I write. The way I think.
The way I see things.
The way I act. The way I react.
The way I interact with you.
The way I’m just being me.
Nobody can be me.
Even if I had a twin,
she wouldn’t be exactly like me.
There is only one of me existing on this earth.
You can’t change someone else to be me.
If you don’t see me as I am.
If you don’t realize the reality.
If you don’t at all,
then that’s where everything ends,
because I can’t make you love me like you mean it,
because I don’t need your love when you don’t mean it.
dear future you,
i know that these words don’t bring you to life. you are very much alive.
i know these words don’t make you anything new. you are very much made.
created and formed; carefully thought out.
every blink, every bone, every mistake.
because you are very much you, and you are certainly somewhere out there, i think of you often. and don’t worry, i don’t think of you in ways that build you up into perfection. you’ll never fit inside of a list. in fact, the sum of your flaws and your scars- the times you lost yourself, lost your love, the bitter questions and aching realizations- these make you more of a man than any false expectations women could dream of.
you are real. and when i meet you i will love you at your very least.
i think of you most in the details. the small, passing moments that i know deep down were created with space for you.
the silence in the elevator. the passenger seat. the one missing quarter i needed for the meter. yesterday morning’s extra free latte. the curves of my sleep patterns, and the folds of my hands.
these moments miss you as much as i do.
i don’t know what you’ll become, but i love who you already are. i hope from the day you meet me i can convince you of that. i hope you will know regardless of how you change, i am in love with all of the in-betweens and transitions, all of the best and worst, because i am in love with your core.
i hope i can do a good enough job of giving you the respect you need.
i hope when your character is questioned, your faith is small, and your strength is not what you pretend it to be, that the thought of my admiration for everything you are is your backbone.
i want you to understand when you meet me that i have been torn apart. in the time without you, i have made just as many mistakes. at my own allowance my heart is not as pretty as it started out- but i am making renovations.
the love of God, and the thought of you, is healing me.
i have been slowly stitching the pieces together, and learning how to guard what is left. i am fully aware that this won’t make our love easy, but its just as true that easy doesn’t make love.
God has been showing me what love actually looks like.
when i look at Him, i see how massive His heart is- and in turn, how small my love is. i’m so thankful i have fallen for Him before i found you, because He is making my love grow large. He’s also shown me that hurting is healing, and how something can hurt and be good all at the same time.
there’s no one like you.
every laugh, every cell, every vein.
i’m here waiting, and i love you without even knowing you.
Not calling it love, obviously.
It’s definitely not love.