Love Letter to Myself

This is how you know I love you.

I’ve gilded the exit wounds with gold, like Kintsugi, cracks shining brighter than the whole.

I’ve put pillows at the bottom of that well of self doubt to catch you when you fall into the pit of it and hung a sign that reads: Look Up

so you remember that the world is still above you and that the sky is full of stars and clouds and that this is not rock bottom and as comfortable as it is here you shouldn’t stay forever.

You know I love you because I have built you a million ways out of the deep dark. Ladders and helping hands, and people who text and call and bring snacks and leave them on the doorstep for you to eat alone in the bath when you’re too lonely for company.

You know I love you because I have given you everything you never thought you deserved: family and friends. Good food. Someone to hold you at night. A soft place to land.

(Written in Wordplay Workshops February 14 Workshop: Broken Hearts and the Messy Parts. Inspired by Andrea Gibson’s beautiful poem “Boomerang Valentine.”)