Why do people read poetry?
Why do we search for meaning
in every line,
every metaphor,
every word someone left behind?
Why do we take a stranger's thoughts
and hold them against our own chest,
wondering if somehow
they were written for us?
I'm being rhetorical, of course.
We read because we don't want to feel alone.
We want to be understood
in a room full of strangers.
We want to find someone who can look at
the tangled mess inside our heads
and say,
I understand.
But perhaps we were never meant
to be everyone's puzzle piece.
Perhaps we were never meant
to be everybody's cup of tea.
And honestly,
wouldn't that be terribly boring?
Somewhere along the way,
we started rushing.
Rushing toward love.
Rushing toward friendship.
Rushing toward the perfect career,
the perfect house,
the perfect life.
Until one day,
We grow older
and realize we spent our lives
working our selves into exhaustion.
We made the money.
We climbed the ladder.
We answered every phone call,
worked every late night,
and postponed every adventure
until someday.
We didn't take the trip.
We didn't say I love you.
We didn't take the leap
because they were afraid
of what might happen
if they actually jumped.
And then we look backward
and realize the greatest risk
was never taking one.
These are the answers
I've been given.
When the world felt heavier
than it should,
I came looking for words.
For encouragement.
For something that reminded me
tomorrow is not promised,
but today is still here.
I've learned that the woman
I fell in love with
is not perfect.
Neither am I.
Maybe that's the point.
Maybe love was never supposed
to be about finding perfection.
Maybe it was about finding someone
whose imperfections
made you want to stay curious.
Someone whose existence
made the world feel
a little less ordinary.
And now I speak to you,
the reader.
Yes, you.
What wisdom have you learned?
Did you take the chance?
Did you tell them how you felt?
Did you go somewhere
you were afraid to go?
Or did you simply stop one day,
look around,
and notice that somehow
you were still here?
Maybe that little smile
you felt today
was enough.
Maybe the song you couldn't stop singing
was enough.
Maybe the strange little coincidence
that made you laugh
was enough.
So, wherever you are,
in whatever chapter
you find yourself,
I hope you find comfort
in this strange little world.
I hope you laugh too loudly.
I hope you love without needing
a guarantee.
I hope you take the trip.
I hope you say the words.
I hope you dance
when nobody is watching.
And for heaven's sake,
sing in the shower.
Because one day
someone may ask you
what you did with your life,
and I hope your answer
isn't just,
I was careful.
I hope you can smile
and say,
I lived.
