I love

I love how scars look on the skin. Over time, even after the wounds have gone, the smooth, graceful etchings remain. The stories those patterns remind you of; maybe a not-so-distant past or a rough landing over a wall. I love the unique language I have with those I care about. Not understood by many but meaningful to those that do. I love dreams. The more confusing the better. Waking up and telling someone before you forget. I love forgiveness. Feeling as though you don’t deserve it at the time but knowing you are happier with it. Deciding to let go when you could so easily hold a grudge. I love lyrics. Ones that I can hear again and again and not get tired of. Thinking I know the meaning behind them.