XVII.

“The fact that someone else loves you doesn’t rescue you from the project of loving yourself.”

I want to know you whether you’re afraid of sharks or spiders death or love. I want to know if it’s grammatical errors that drive you crazy or the people correcting them, if you’re more comfortable shaking sand out of your hair or snow, if you prefer coffee or tea, bars or board game nights. I want to know which of your friends you’ve cried in front of, if you’ve ever laughed chocolate milk out of your nose, or kissed someone you didn’t love. I want to know you, the you beneath the layer of small talk always kept shined and smudgeless.  I’m just hoping one day you’ll invite me in.

Be alone. Eat alone, take yourself on dates, sleep alone. In the midst of this you will learn about yourself. You will grow, you will learn what inspires you. You will cultivate your own dreams, your own beliefs, your own stunning clarity. And when you do meet the right person who makes your cells dance, you will be sure of it because you are sure of yourself.

Not everyone deserves to know the real you. Let them criticize who they think you are.