I am in complete awe of the way you hold your kindness like a weapon, with two good hands, targeting everything I have grown up used to, giving me the immense urge to re-calibrate my standards of what I considered to be a selfless person. It baffles my mind how you have a love for things that everyone ignores. How you love the ugliest parts of people, even after they’ve tried to use those parts against you. It also baffles my mind how you often think something is wrong with that because you have been called psycho or clingy before.
You taught me that kindness is not an act. It’s a lifestyle. One you’ve planted in the very depths of your soul a long time ago, one that grew wider day by day, making the walls of your heart stretch like a trampoline, extend to the point where I am afraid that if I touch you, it will lose all resistance and your paper-thin heart will overflow, immersing you in an ocean made of all the sacrifices you’ve made…and all the tears you’ve shed.
I know sometimes, it gets more than you can take. I know that telling someone about your awful days always end up feeling like you have shoved a dagger down your throat, because you think you are supposed to be the strong one, and receiving all the love you give in return seems like a gift you cannot take. But I am proud of you for every person you blurted your secrets to, for every midnight confession you made that you woke up having to face in the morning. For the Facebook rants at 3 A.M, for every itchy and sinking feeling of having someone who knows now: it’s not always as pretty as it seems, but all you can do after all is give. Give your time, give your ears, give your heart.. give your hands.
Your hands are all you’ve got, but hold on tightly. You are allowed to breathe.
You are not clingy. And your value cannot be summarised in the word “overemotional”. Your love is a gift. Caring too much is a gift. People are so desensitised nowadays. Everyone is playing a game – they are all afraid to say too much, to feel too deeply, to let people know what they mean to them. They may be safe, but life begins outside the comfort zone. I know your fingers burn from holding your heart on your sleeve all the time and tomorrow feels like hands tightened around your throat but please, find a way to inhale a fresh breath from time to time. It’s going to be okay.
Your heart cannot stop overflowing and that’s okay. Sometimes you can’t help but let yourself drown and that’s okay. Your hands are all you’ve got, sometimes our hands are all we’ve got and that’s okay. I just hope one day, it will get easier to mold your demons into a shape that you can pronounce without flinching, because as superhuman as you seem to me, you are still human.
Dear people who love a little too much,
Keep loving hard. Keep caring too much because the world needs amazing people like you sharing that gift of love. None of the things you do is going to waste. I know you know exactly what I’m talking about. Because in the end, I’m sure you’d rather be able to say I loved too much than not enough.