Dear you,
I saw more than you think I did. Not because I wanted to look, but because sometimes the truth walks right into your eyes when your heart is still trying to believe.
I saw how tired you are. How you move through your days carrying too much — the debts, the distance, the weight of trying to be enough. And I saw the parts of you that stumble, the ones you hide behind your laughter.
I know about the messages, the apps, the women whose names you keep tucked between your hours. I know what you say when you think no one's listening. And yet, I stay.
Not because I don't feel the ache — I do. But because a part of me still believes that maybe this time, someone doesn't have to give up on you. That maybe, if I stay long enough, you'll start choosing the softer parts of yourself.
When I said, "I trust you with what I see, and please take care of what I don't," it wasn't a test. It was hope — quiet, trembling hope — that even when I turn away, you'll still be the kind of person I can look at without pretending.
You don't owe me perfection. I just want you to meet your own reflection one day and finally see someone you can be gentle with. Because despite everything, I still believe there's goodness in you — the kind that doesn't need to hide behind promises.
— B