I see you.
You’re sitting across from me at a table too small for any normal human to be at, and you’re staring at your laptop hoping he will text back.
You’re talking and smiling and second guessing everything you do. It’s normal, I know, and I feel the same way. That’s what makes me so close to you.
All the insecurities you have, I’ve never been able to see. You’re literally are perfect to me.
The looks you give are all the more deafening, white knuckling your way through the days that prove to be too challenging.
Thank you for being there, it really means a lot. But just so you know, I wish you didn’t feel the need to stop—
To stop being you. To stop being beautiful. To stop all your words because they may be too truthful.
To stop all the harm that is done in others’ lives even though those aren’t your battles to fight.
I love you more than life itself, I love you more than garlic bread.
But, honestly D., I would rather you loved yourself instead.