when i first saw you,
you struck me as a writer.

i thought maybe you were my age-
maybe i had actually found someone,
but i should have known better.

you told me that i had a beautiful voice,
(in Japanese)
and my cheeks became roses.
my heart,
a lightning bug.

i left that night with a smile spread wide across my face, like the Cheshire Cat.
a smile that no one had seen in so long,
that they expected it to fade.

everyone i know told me to wait until the next day to text you,
but patience has never been a virtue of mine.
all i could think about was how badly i wanted to know you, and maybe,
to love you.

i know we can't work right now, and that sucks, but perhaps
there is a potential for something great here.

just in case, there are some things you should know.

i'm a lot. i can be a hand full sometimes, and i know it.
there's a lot "wrong" with me.
i cry a lot.
i take other's pain more personally than my own.

i'm broken. really broken.
and that fact has made me feel unlovable.
so please know, that when i pull away-
when i don't text back or when i go silent,
it's because i don't feel worthy of being cared about.

i have a hard time trusting people- especially guys.
my dad hurt me a lot when i was younger, and i'm still healing.

i am really good at playing hide and seek with my emotions.
i know where are the best hiding places are,
and maybe, someday, you'll find them, too.
and i hope what's in there doesn't make you want to leave.

when i'm having a bad day, i may not say anything about it.
i'll probably just brush it off and be really quiet.
but it would be nice if you cared enough to figure out what a bad day looks like for me.
it would be nice if you were there.

if you hurt me,
I am likely to stay with you,
but i shouldn't.
so, please,
be kind.

i want to love you,
if you'll only let me.

i know we're both broken.
i know you're sad.
i know you feel like your meds aren't working.
i know you have days when you want to end it all,
and i do, too.

But love,
i don't want to fix you.
i don't want to be your drug.
i know that's not realistic.
i don't want you to not be broken,
i just want to love you through it.

i want to be here on the nights when a noose tries to wrap itself around your neck.
i want to break it, and strip it of its power over us.

i want to kiss your scars,
run my hands along their rough edges,
and convince you that you are so much more than the violence inside of you.

i want to talk to you.
about your day; how you're doing.
about music, and poetry, and your fears and dreams-
anything.

i want to hold you, and listen to sad songs, and maybe cry a little,
and i don't want to feel the need to apologize for feeling too much.

i want to help you know Jesus.
Prove His existence, and your worth in Him.

i want to stay up late on the phone.
we don't even have to talk-
i just want to know you're there.

i just want to help you, and love you,
and i know i should want the same back,
but i don't.
i just want to love you.
being loved by you would be a nice bonus.

all i really want is to convince you to
stay.
it would be an honor to be a part of that.