You don’t see it do you? The beautiful battlefield you are. You come to me with your failed relationships and your stinging regrets, cupped within your hands, offered to me like an apology.

But, the thing is,  you don’t have to apologize for the way the world broke you. You don’t have to ask me to forgive you for having scars, or doubts, or fears. You think you aren’t enough, that your experiences took from you and left you lacking, but that couldn’t be more wrong. Your past may have built you but it never reduced you, it never spoiled your potential — it only ever added to it, it only ever made you stronger, more deserving of a love that loves you back.

Sometimes my chest sinks into my stomach when I realize you truly don’t see yourself the way I see you. See, I don’t see your parents divorce, or your sisters despair. I don’t see anguish stamped along your skin, I don’t notice the tremble in your “I love yous.” When I see you, I see roses. I see forests of potential just budding from your limbs. When I see you I see courage; I see a woman who is loving despite being afraid, I see a woman who is fighting despite feeling weak. When I see you I see a strength that inspires me.