Please don’t cast me into the ordinary, as if I were a pebble on a forgotten path. I am not common; I am a constellation of stardust, a symphony of quiet miracles. When I say, “I love you,” let your gaze linger upon me, for in that moment, my soul stretches its fragile wings toward yours. Listen closely, as if deciphering ancient runes etched upon my lips, when I gather courage to ask you to share your love with me. It is then that I am most human, most raw—a fragile bridge between longing and belonging.

Don’t mistake my openness for weakness. No, it is not frailty that spills forth from my heart; it is the audacity to be unguarded. When I reveal my vulnerabilities, look into my eyes. There, you’ll find constellations—stories of battles fought, and scars earned. Remember this: I am open, not brittle. My vulnerability is not a chink in armor but a window to my essence.

And when I reach out to you, it is not your back that will teach me a lesson. No, it is your hand—the warmth of your palm against mine—that will etch grace upon my memory. Your touch, a reminder of our shared humanity, of the vastness of compassion. So, don’t retreat; open your arms wide. Let me rush into them, a tempest seeking refuge. In that embrace, we both win—an alchemy of solace and strength.

Time, my dearest companion, is a gift wrapped in ephemeral paper. When I offer it to you, unwrap it with reverence. Each second, a brushstroke on the canvas of our existence. Cherish it as I cherish you—the way an artist cradles a delicate watercolor brush, coaxing life onto blank paper. For what am I but a collection of moments, strung together like pearls on a silken thread? I am human, yes, but also a soul—a vessel of dreams and echoes. Flawed, certainly, but isn’t it the cracks that allow light to seep through?

And love—oh, love! It courses through my veins, a river that knows no boundaries. Like you, I am woven from its threads. We are both travelers on this fragile planet, seeking connection amid chaos. So, let us be kindred souls, reaching across the expanse of existence. Let us be flawed and luminous, imperfect and magnificent. For in this shared vulnerability, we find our truest selves—the heartbeat of our shared story.

Know this, my fellow wanderer: I am love, and so are you. We are constellations, poetry, and the ache of longing. And when the world spins too fast, let us pause, breathe, and remember—we are bound by more than mere moments. We are bound by the infinite, the eternal, the quiet magic that whispers, “You are not alone.”

So, take my hand, and let us dance upon the precipice of existence. Let us be flawed and fierce, tender and unyielding. For in this fragile dance, we discover the universe within each other—a cosmic collision of souls, forever seeking home. 🌟❤️🌿

© Beatriz Esmer