I don’t think you realize…
how much of you is already enough.

You spend so much time trying to fix yourself,
to smooth out every rough edge,
like love only comes to those who are perfect.
But the truth is—
it’s the cracks that let me in.

I don’t love you in spite of your flaws.
I love you because of them.
Because they’re proof that you’re human.
Proof that you’ve lived,
that you’ve hurt,
that you’ve kept going.

And when you feel like you’re too much,
or not enough—
I just want you to know…
you don’t have to be anything other than what you are,
right now,
in this moment.

That’s already everything to me.