#lessonsfromyou

Thanks to you, I learned first-hand exactly what true love is, what it means, and why it's something we chase so often. Love is confident. Love is understanding. Love is fun. Love is a warm hug on a rainy day. Love is scary, in both good and bad ways. Love is sticking with someone as hellfire rains onto them, choosing to let it scar you both instead of allowing them to endure it on their own. Love is going to McDonald's at midnight because why the hell not, it's the weekend and there's car karaoke that needs butchering. Love is seeing passion and life where others see cracks, and hope where others see hopelessness. Love is feeling comfort at the sound of their voice. Love is lovely. Love is good. And the love I was coaxed into feeling is now my reason for fighting. Thank you for teaching me this.

Thank you for teaching me this.

Thank you for teaching me this.

I learned from you that I’m someone worth loving. Someone who deserves to be loved. Someone who shouldn’t stand for anything less. Thank you for teaching me this.

Thank you for teaching me this

Love is incredible. It makes you feel perfect, content, happy, warm. This also makes it the scariest thing I can imagine, because something that can be found can also be lost. Unfairly, suddenly, permanently, unforgivingly lost. No cosmic horror or depiction of large, grotesque demonic evil can come close to capturing the dread of such a loss. And if everything eventually comes to an end, does this mean loving is an inherently bad thing, and should be avoided, as it comes with the promise of such pain? I'm not sure. What I do know is this; to love is to get on your knees and beg that the universe embeds itself into the deepest part of your soul and do it's worst. (And for the record... I'd gladly do it again.) Thank you for teaching me this.

Love is incredible. It makes you feel perfect, content, happy, warm. This also makes it the scariest thing I can imagine, because something that can be found can also be lost. Unfairly, suddenly, permanently, unforgivingly lost. No cosmic horror or depiction of large, disgusting monsters and demons can come close to capturing the dread of such a loss. And if everything eventually comes to an end, does this mean loving is an inherently bad thing for your own self, and should be avoided, since it comes with the promise of such pain? I'm not sure. What I do know is this; to love is to get on your knees and beg that the universe embeds itself into the deepest part of your soul and do it's worst. (And for the record, yes... I'd gladly do it again.) Thank you for teaching me this

I was shown my skin is something deserving of being happy with, that my words are filled with more than the letters that they're made of. The veil that covered my light from my own eyes was lifted by the first hand that recognized it was even there, and the power that once emanated from only you began it's second breath through me.