He's Wrong

He thinks I'm broken. There are times I can see the disappointment in his eyes. His words are like a silk noose. Who knew strangulation could be so soft? I'm not broken. According to Doctor Who, the stars have exploded and reformed more times than they could ever be counted and there never form the same twice. I am original. There will not be another cluster of cells, dust, and fragmented solar systems that will equal me. According to my mother, God looks into darkness and picks you from it. Knowing all the things you will do right, wrong, tragically wrong, and miraculously right. He looks at you, loves you anyway, and creates you customized correctly for your life. I am customized. No one was pulled out of the darkness to live my life the way I can made to live it like me. According to me, I was wished for. Someone somewhere, made a wish for me. Me in all of awkward, lovely, stunning, irritating, charming glory. I am someones dream walking. He thinks I'm broken every day. He is wrong. There are times I can see the disappointment in his eyes. At those times I look back and forgive him. I forgive and love like only a somebody's dream-come-true of clustered star dust pulled out of darkness by God could.