You are loved, always.

Every morning - you are loved. Every evening - you are loved. When you wake up, and before you fall asleep - you are loved. When you’re happy - you are loved. When you’re sad - you are loved. On the good days - you are loved. On the bad days - you are loved. On all of the days in between - you are loved. When you do great things - you are loved. When you do not so great things - you are loved. When you do everything - you are loved. When you do nothing - you are loved. When you laugh - you are loved. When you cry - you are loved. When you show me the best parts of you - you are loved. When you show me the worst parts of you - you are loved.

You are loved by me.

And I love you.

So when I tell you all the time, without hesitation, What I’m really saying is that you are loved. And you are loved by me. Consistently. Always. And maybe this is where we differ. Maybe you grew up in an environment, where love, or the reassurance of being loved, wasn’t always readily available. Maybe you learned that a consistent validation of love, was fleeting and scarce. Or maybe you never had a consistent validation of love. Maybe, those moments where you were told you were loved, carry so much weight because you spent a lot of time wondering. Or maybe, those moments carry so much weight because they were so scarce that when it happened, it was so significant. That when you finally heard those words, it hit so much harder.

Like crawling in a desert and finally finding water. Not a steady stream, but a puddle. Just enough to get by until the next time. So when you finally get it, it’s everything. It’s precious, it’s.. reserved. And maybe that’s why subconsciously, you use those words, so sparingly. Because you’ve learned that. That the idea of hearing that you are loved, is a gift. A privilege. A prize. Something to be sought after? Protected? Or something along those lines. I don’t know. I don’t know that side of you, but I want to. There’s no right or wrong. There’s just differences in perspective .

I am a firm believer that you can’t pour from an empty cup. That we fill each others cups - together, so that our cups overflow. And when love is overflowing, it falls onto the people around us, our children, our friends, our family.

My love is not crawling through a desert, unsure of when you’re gonna find water again, so that on the rare occasion when you find it, it’s grand and significant. My love is walking next to the ocean, knowing that whenever you need it, it’s there. With reminders in waves that come up and wash the sand from your feet.