I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a Cancer or what, but I tell the people in my life that I love them all the time. There are some who I back off from telling because I can tell it makes them a little uncomfortable, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Because I do. I love them.
A few weeks ago I found myself feeling like I had to explain why I do this to someone else. “It’s not just you,” I said. “I say it to so many people and I mean it.” Not sure why I felt the need to justify…a very human reaction I suppose, but I’m going to stop doing that. Justifying it I mean. Because it’s true. I love you. I do.
If I’ve told you I love you it’s because I think of you often. I think you’re wonderful and witty and kind and cool. I pray for you and your children, your pets, your family, your friends. I see something in you that lights me up and makes me want to keep forgiving and living a life of love. I am grateful for you. I love you. I do.
There’s a man I see weekly whom I have loved for two years. I’ve wanted to tell him for two whole years, but I held back. I copied his phone number from the group’s sign-in sheet and there were so many times that I almost called him, while I knew he’d be at work just so I could leave a message saying “Just so you know, I think you’re fab. I love you.” I didn’t. But I will; when it’s right; I will. Because I do. I love him.
Sometimes I feel silly. I feel like wearing my heart on my sleeve is such a rookie mistake…as if I’m a new soul untrained in the evil ways of the world. But maybe it’s reversed. Maybe I’ve been here so many times that I’m just not buying the fearful illusion anymore. Maybe my silliness helps you see yourself differently. Helps you to see you through my eyes…through Love’s eyes.
Oooh. I like that. I do.
And I love you. So there.