I love...

I love being the one you tell your secrets to.

I love being the one who gets to witness you release the anger stoked to flames beneath your sternum from the battlefield you ran through just to pay rent and get home safely.

I love being the one to whom you confess your deepest fears - the kind that make you want to shrivel into a ball inside.

I love being the one who's shoulder you soak in tears from the pain and the hate and worry and the memories.

I love being the one you can laugh and fingerpaint with.

I love being the one with whom you can surrender and accept your whole self, even if it means confessing you care very very very much about so many things.

I love being the one who gets to purge you of shame and guilt - especially when we can turn that into fun together.

I love being the one who gets to hear how you have discovered something that gave you serenity, even if it was something incredibly small.

I love being the one with whom you can feel safe enough to take the mask off and just snuggle.

I love being the one you meet at the Crossroads.

I love being the one who can celebrate victories - large and small - with you.

I love being the one you can be little with.

I love being the one who can tell you the boogiemen are all gone and the cosmos has beautiful things in store for you.

I love being the one that makes you want to be your best self, to deeply value yourself and your gifts, and to be excited about tomorrow.

And more than anything…

I love being the one who gets to witness the Sun rise inside your eyes as you describe to me how you've been set free.