You are singularly beautiful.

Your words bring light, magic and hope into my life.

You are a flame of warmth in a harsh and darkening world.

Love is too overused a word to tell you my regard for you simply being.

I thank God daily for your existence.

"Regardless if you feel like a burden or not, I still love every single goddamn version of you."

Those were the words I typed on my document as my main characters went through a vulnerable state in a chapter. Words---my own words like these---make my heart pound, and cry, and melt, and break, all at the same time.

My heart would rapidly pound because I'd never seen my own words I created for me that would touch me so perfectly, so immaculately. Because I'd never seen other words I produced other than those words form a clear reflection of my soul.

My heart would cry because I wish someone would tell me that. Especially at the times when my thoughts were burdening me, which lead me to think I was a burden to everyone, which also led me to string into thoughts of knowing that people would have an easier life if I wasn't present in theirs anymore. Especially when my thoughts were constantly tied into thinking I had to present myself as the perfect friend to be loved. If I wasn't happy for a day, people wouldn't like me anymore. If I wasn't motivated for a day, people would see me as a fraud. If I went through something in my life, suddenly everyone starts to disappear from me, leaving me alone in my imperceptible darkness.

My heart would melt because of the same reason as the first. If someone ever said that to me in real life, I would break down in tears, no doubt. Tears would stream down my cheeks, but I would also beam at the same time. Knowing someone had cared about me that much to say words like these.

And my heart would break because it took them so much violence in order to say such gentle words like these. It took me so much unresolved history to form those words in the first place. Knowing I'd never experienced unconditional love. I'd never experienced feeling seen, despite the various versions of me. It didn't matter how many friends I had. It was the lack of connection that led me to carve those words out.

Isolation, loneliness, and the extreme feeling of desolation led me to carve out words that felt like a warm hug from someone I love.

Now that I thought about it, I don't think I remember the last time I ever received a hug. At least those words felt like one.

Those words will forever stick into my heart.

If no one was going to like the different versions of me,

At least I will.

Something I said to my mom once that made her cry,

"I love you because you raised me to be the kind of person who loves without cause."

My only middle school love poem, of which I convinced myself was completely platonic.

To the girl with the braid in her hair,

And the ribboned mask that blooms,

I see you and I blissfully beam.

Not for the world to mock or share,

No matter what others assume.

Your backpack has patches of flowers,

Your socks have embroidered balloons.

If I could braid your hair,

I'd weave in ribbons

Nearly as pretty as you.

I know that I shouldn't feel this way

The way he asks, how I am?

I smile and blush

I'm better now that I'm in his hands

He asked me now to hug him

Said his day was pretty bleak

I didn't tell him that I loved him

Those words would ruin my happy streak

I love it when he talks to me

He listens to me with good cheer

I want to say I love you

I want to whisper it in his ear

I would turn bright red all over

Now all I think about is fear

Wrapped up in your arms I feel safe and I feel loved

You tell me that you're proud of me

I'm Gods gift from above

I help you with your classes

Were friends at the very least

But for now I enjoy your company

And the treasure words that I want to keep