Scars
I know that you are scarred. We both are. And sometimes, it’s me who gave you those scars.
I know you have your insecurities. And sometimes, it’s me who makes you feel insecure.
I know that you try to hide your scars, your insecurities, fearing that people would judge you, fearing they won’t like you.
And sometimes even after all the secrets we shared, after all the time that we spent together,
After all those long nights when we talked and cried, all those long walks on that dark lonely road when we were both drunk,
You still hide your scars, your insecurities fearing that I would judge you, fearing I might not like you.
I might not say this to you but whenever I hold your hand, whenever I look into your eyes, I make a promise
To love you for who you are, to accept you as you are, with your scars and insecurities.
I don’t want you to hide them because if they make you anything, they only make you beautiful.
So, give me your hand and I promise I will hold you forever.
……
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