I am living for the day when I find someone who will love me even when I am sad. Even when depression leaves scars on more than just my skin. Even when anxiety makes me ugly. Even when I don’t want to be loved let alone embraced.
I don’t buy into the bullshit that you “cannot love someone until you love yourself” because my chest is burning with a passion for a familiar person that I cannot have. And I have nothing but love to give to the person who sees something in me worth loving. Because a blind man still wants to know what the world looks like. Still wants to believe in what he cannot see.
And I am living for the day when I can have her. And she will tell me that she loves me without exceptions. And I will believe her. And I will believe that there is something in me worth loving.
Even if I cannot see it.