Dear K.S.,
I love you.
I know sometimes I act weird
And my hands shake
And my teeth chatter
And my eyes clench shut.
But you deal with it.
I know sometimes I get angry
With the world we live in
Or the way people talk
Or how people treat us.
But you deal with it.
You've walked through hell
And still
You smile.
Why can't I do that?
And how do you put up with me?
I can barely stand myself.
But you stand me.
You love me.
I know I look at myself
And I talk about how ugly I am
And how fat I am
And how gross I am.
But you grab my hand
And you tell me I'm beautiful.
You deal with it.
I know you have your moods
Where you're tired
Or angry.
But I deal with it.
Because I love you.
And you love me too.
And you're teaching me to love myself.
Love,
H.D.W.R.