To the One Who Feels Unseen

You carry the weight of your story like armor,

not because it protects you,

but because it’s familiar,

because letting it go feels like surrendering

the only thing the world never took from you.

I see it, every piece of it,

and still, I am here.

You tell me you’re not special,

but you are to me.

Not because of perfection

not because you are easy to love

but because you exist in a way that makes me want to stay.

Your resilience, even when you feel it’s slipping,

is not just strength, it’s life refusing to let you go.

You’ve learned to live as an afterthought,

to accept the ache of being second or last,

and you’ve worn that dismissal like a second skin.

But I want to peel that away,

to touch the person you think isn’t worth holding.

I want to show you

that you can be the first thought,

the steady heartbeat,

the one who doesn’t have to beg for a place.

I know you crave unconditional love

a love that doesn’t buckle,

doesn’t retreat,

doesn’t flinch when you hand over your burdens.

I won’t promise to fix you

you don’t need fixing.

But I will stand with you,

beside the messy and the broken,

through every jagged piece you fear will drive me away.

Let me meet the girl you want to save.

Let me see her in her rawness,

in her fear,

in her dreams she’s too afraid to speak aloud.

Let me help her heal

not because she is weak,

but because she deserves someone

to walk with her into the light.

You are not your past,

not the wounds you carry,

not the reflection you’ve been taught to hate.

You are the warmth I reach for,

the voice that makes me believe in softness again,

the person I choose

every day, I choose.

If you can’t see your own light yet,

then let me be here to remind you,

to reflect it back when it feels dim.

You say you’re afraid of not reaching the life you dream of,

but I believe you will.

And I want to be there when you do,

to look back with you and say,

“God, it was worth it.”

You don’t have to be special to the world,

to be special to me.