I don’t want to be loved half way. I don’t want to be loved with conditions. I don’t want to be loved on someone else’s terms, when it’s convenient or easy. I don’t want to be loved on a foundation in which I am not also the main operator. I don’t want to be loved without effort, without trial and error. I don’t want to be loved like a preordered masterpiece. I don’t want to be loved without uniqueness, without patience, and without empathy.
I don’t want to be loved with exceptions.
Love all of me or none of me.
Love me from my toes to the tips of my fingers.
Love me from the centerpiece of my mind all the way until you get to my thoughts, and then love me some more.
Love my thoughts like you’d love the tree that breathed life into you.
Love my body like you’d want your daughter to love hers.
Love my story like it’s your favorite novel, the book you can’t stop reading.
Love me enough to ask me questions, enough to get intimate with my answers.
Love my hands like you know the importance of all in which they must hold.
Love me because you know how possible I make things.
Love me with no concern, something that you know will never hurt to ask for more of.
Love me with intent, with the commitment of your touch.
Love me with compassion, enough to be empathetic with me when I am not at my best.
Love my best and my worst the same, for you know the balance of both is the epitome of my magic.
Love me like you only have the opportunity once. Love me with all five senses. Love me like you’ll never get the chance to ever again. Love me like you know how fragile this life is, like you know exactly when it will be over.
Love me like you know that just because all things come to an end, doesn’t mean that your love ever will.