We want to protect the people we fall in love with. We want to nurture them and hold them where they are their most tender; we want to make sure that they know we are not revolted by their broken pieces, that we do not recoil at their damage. We want to hold it all, we want to whisper into the cracks, “It’s okay to be who you are with me.” We do this because we see so much of ourselves within those we give our hearts to. We notice the ways the fragments of their personalities and their experiences and the way the characteristics life has given them glint in the light and catch our attention, most likely because we see within them a familiarity. We may not have been broken in the same way, weathered in the same way, but we still feel a sense of belonging to them, a sense of being understood. In a way, it is through loving those broken pieces within another human being that we are kinder to the pieces that ache in the same ways within ourselves. We may not always call it by its name, but in the quiet, almost eerie, understanding that hangs in the air when you are in the presence of someone who sees you in ways the others don’t, something deep inside of you is affirmed. Maybe, just maybe, it is okay to believe that you can be loved there, too. Maybe, just maybe, it isn’t such an unthinkable thing to have faith in. 🤍