I thought of texting you
"good morning, I can’t sleep"
and then I remembered
that you are on a journey
which I am not a part of
and that’s okay
I can’t sleep
[gently and kindly reminding you that someday someone is going to look at you and finally understand every sappy love song they’ve ever heard]
Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love, it is discovering the ocean after years of puddle-jumping.
It is realizing you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope when the crowds have all gone home.
Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman men will hurt.
If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along.
It is hard to stop loving the ocean, even after it has left you gasping, salty.
So forgive yourself for the decisions you’ve made, the ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night,
And know this: know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.
Let the statues crumble. You have always been the place.
You are a woman who can build it herself.
You were born to build.
My mom told me to “find a man who respects you like a sea captain respects the sea.” A man who looks at you with awe and reverence but knows you are a force of nature. I like that.