by cjhale. For S. B. Thank you for loving me, even though I told you not to
There's a guy who loves me.
No, it's not romantic. But he loves me. He told me so.
I don't know what I did.
Maybe I didn't do anything, but somehow he loves me.
Even while I'm cutting.
Even when panic attacks consume me. Even with my scars. He loves me.
Scared I'll do something wrong. I'm still learning to love, barely starting to crawl. This is me after all. And I'm sure I'm hard to love.
Yet somehow he loves me. And I choose to trust him.
I love him after all. My friend. He has stolen my heart you see, and I hope he never breaks it. But for now it is his, and I don't really mind.
I hope he takes care of it.
It's been broken and bruised and burned before. And my heart is calloused, but I trust him. I love him.
I am loved.
And I am grateful. My scars, my bruises, it doesn't matter. I am loved. I A M L O V E D.