Conversations with you / Kaylin

Conversations with You

Kaylin (a lover, loved)

Do you think we can be forgiven? Do you think that we can be made completely and utterly undone, unraveled to the point where we can’t tell our hatred from our longing? Where you can’t even seem to comprehend the infinite forms of love you freely give to your father, your lover, your friends — but not yourself, no, never yourself? Because I am begging you, my love, for an ounce of what you see in me, for an inkling of what you like to read in my lovesick words, my smile, the way I talk about something — someone, I love. How I choose, again and again and again, to give that same power to someone I don’t. For we may be forgiven, but we are given nothing more.

You’re missing a piece here, something important that should be noted — You tend to define worthiness as if it’s something hard to attain, my dear; And you mention, time after time after time, that it’s something you need to earn. As if worthiness is something you ought to seek, and not something that’s been living inside you since day one, Something inherently yours, ever present and effervescent from the start. Come here, dear — let me whisper my praise, my adoration, my love, all and only for you. For you are holy, lovely and beautiful in one fell swoop. I pray, my love, that you may see your worth someday soon. 11