It is late right now, love, and I think that if I slept, I’d dream of you.
It’s not because you’re one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever beheld,
or because you’re extremely clever in a way people won’t usually understand,
but because you know how to burn in your own light
in that frightening sea of sorrow.
If there’s one thing I wish, it’s that you grow.
You’d grow gracefully and wonderfully,
like the way you are around the people who have your heart.
It’s that you become who you truly yearn to be.
I also wish that somehow, in an odd, amazing sense,
you’d accept the fact that I love you, in ways
where I’d be there for you even if you don’t wish I wasn’t,
and I love every single flaw in you and see it as wonder.
Please, I solemnly beg, let yourself be free.
Be liberated knowing that love,
in all its glory and downfalls, will carry on with you,
with hope along its side.
Please, be who will make you happy.
I love you,
in a love even I don’t understand,
so, don’t try to decipher it,
but let it guide you.
I love you so much.