Love, for better, is not reserved for romance alone.
It does not seek to leave you out, to miss you, to move on without you, to shine its light in every space but yours, or to find its home in every place but yours.
Love is not fiction.
Its attention and affection neither fleeting nor false.
It was not made to restrict you, to reduce you paper thin, to take a piece of you.
Love, in fact, consistent and kind, was made for you.
It is existing still, all around you, within you, through you, for you.
It carries on with, never without you.
It comes to life in you.
It shines its Light on you, gloriously finds its home in you.
Love leaps to defend, to protect you.
It opens up the door for you,
Moves heaven and earth just to be near you.
Love shows up for you, searches every crowded room for you,
Saves a seat for you.
Saves you, heart, mind, body and soul, Saves you.
And when your heart has been ever stretched,
May you know that it will never be so pressed that it cannot mend.
Once again, it shall mend,
In health, strength, and bloom.
So may you know that each piece, From the seemingly small,
Was never really lost at all.
Never deficient, never lacking, never half, always whole.
No piece missing.
No part ever lost, can be lost, nor will be lost.
You are not lost.
You are found.
And as you stand here, found as can be, in this given glorious state,
And in every moment more,
May you come to know a whole new meaning of what it really is,
To be wildly,