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You are more than the lips you’ve kissed, the ones that were temporary and the ones that left. You are more than nights spent with tears pressed into the pillow, more than phone calls hitting answering machines and texts left on read. You are more than the ways you give yourself away, time and time again to a person who only pushes your love aside. You are more than anything you’ve been lead to believe—that you are too much, not enough, weak because you let your heart guide your feet.
You are more than the ones who couldn’t love you with the same tenacity, who couldn’t promise forever, who couldn’t fight. You are more than a bleeding heart, letting yourself spill for people who don’t see your worth. You are more than this.
The truth about you, is that you are unafraid. Unafraid to listen to the pounding in your chest, unafraid to believe in a force greater than you, unafraid to fall.
You stare love in the face and don’t back down. You pull people closer instead of pushing them away. You walk to the rhythm of your own beat and fall fearlessly forward into arms, regardless of whether they’re ready to catch you. Every time you trust that they will.
And sometimes they don’t. Sometimes you’re spiraling down and they walk away. Sometimes you land flat on your face and have to dust yourself off in the shadow of their presence. Sometimes it’s so hard to believe that the times they run is not a reflection on you.
Sometimes you get so caught up in your losses, it’s hard to find value—in the world, in yourself. Sometimes you wonder if there’s something you’re doing wrong, if perhaps you should feel a little less, distance a little more.
But there is nothing wrong with the way you love.
Every heart that doesn’t see the passion in yours is foolish. Every soul who couldn’t love you back does not, and will never be measure of your worth.
You are more than the ones who walked away with their whole pieces, leaving you broken in their wake. You are more than the nights you stayed up late, talking about dreams, only to have them crushed in the morning. You are more than the bodies that just long for another next to theirs, for warmth and comfort and nothing real. You are more than temporary, more than just one night.
You are more than the people who mistake your kindness for weakness, who think because you are guided by the pounding of your chest that you are naïve. You are more than the forevers you thought you could hold onto, but found they no longer believed.
You are more than the hands that didn’t hold you, the promises that became lies. More than a heart oozing blood with no bandages from the one who said they would always be there. More than what you can give, but never receive in return.
You are laughter and tenderness, strength and spark. You are eyes that see the world, hands that bring light to whatever they touch. You are legs that carry you forward, a body that comforts, that teaches, that continually grows. You are words and lessons, spirit and confidence.
You are more than your heart, though it is both powerful and beautiful.
So please remember that the way you love is not your self-definition, but something you wear with pride. Because having a heart that bleeds for the people you love, having a heart that beats with passion, having a heart that is selfless despite brokenness, having a heart that doesn’t quit—that’s nothing to be ashamed of.
You have nothing to be ashamed of.