You have seen me during the moments I drink to forget about. During the lowest days of my life. And if you weren’t there, you heard stories about what happened. I never hold back from telling you when I go through a mental breakdown or when my family does something fucked up again. I’m never embarrassed about giving you the details. I never keep secrets from you, because I know how you are going to react.

You are going to comfort me, not tell me to calm down. You are going to try to make me feel better, not feel worse. You are going to say the right thing, not the cliche thing.

You have seen me at my ugliest. You have witnessed my most psycho moments. And that’s how I know you really love me. Nothing has made you budge. You aren’t going anywhere.

You have seen me cry — not just a teardrop or two. You have seen me bawling my eyes out. You have seen me when my eye liner made it halfway down my face, turning my cheeks dark. You have seen me when I couldn’t even speak because I had trouble catching my breath, because my throat was sore from sobbing.

You have seen me drunk. Too drunk. Drunker than I ever should have gotten. You have held my hair back. You have helped me walk. You have cleaned up my messes because I wasn’t coherent enough to take care of myself. You have tucked me into bed and gave me water in the morning instead of a lecture.

You have seen me when I was screaming so loud my voice cracked and I could barely talk the next day. You saw me when I was cursing someone out because I was unable to hold my temper for a second longer. You saw me when I was shaking so hard it was impossible to get behind the wheel of my car. You saw me when I was the angriest I have ever been at another human being.

You have seen me during moments that I used to want to experience alone. I only wanted other people to see the attractive sides of me. I wanted them to think I had my life together. I wanted them to think that I was happy all the time, that I never went through a moment of doubt.

But you proved that it’s okay to be vulnerable in front of someone else. It’s okay to break down in front of someone else. It’s okay to be raw and honest and real.

Whenever I yell, I know you are going to be there to talk me down from the cliff. Whenever I cry, I know you are going to wrap an arm around me and squeeze. Whenever I drink, I know you are going to get my head and stomach feeling okay again. Whenever I need you, I know you are going to be there.

You have seen every single side of me. Even the ugliest bits. And you haven’t gone anywhere. You still love me after learning exactly who I am — and that’s why I am always going to love you.