To My Butterfly

There is this girl, who is really, really beautiful.

And not the kind of beautiful you see in magazines; not the kind with caked faces or any of the sort. She is even more beautiful then that.

She is beautiful both inside and outside, as corny as that sounds.

But I don't care how corny or stupid or cliché I sound.

She's a very wonderful person with a bright personality, a creative mind, and a hilarious sense of humor.

But inside I know she's hurt; wounded.

And I feel so useless and so helpless, because I can't do anything about it.

I want to hold her and hug her and keep her safe from all the harm, because she doesn't deserve any of it.

Sure, she's made a few mistakes.

So what? We all have. We're not perfect, even though we try so hard to be.

She's just such an amazing and wonderful and talented person.

Right now, people hate her.

Right now, her friends are mad at her.

But me? No. I'm not mad. I don't care what she did; if she stole a car, broke a window, I don't care!

Because that's who she is, and who am I to question her true self? Who am I to judge her?

It's what inside that counts, no matter how stupid and cliché and corny it sounds.

Mistakes are mistakes, they can't be undone but at least you learn from them.

And she's still learning, and I bet the people who are mad at her are still learning from their mistakes.

I'm still learning from them.

And I'm not going to go into the whole, "Stay strong!" "Head high!" "Chin up, gorgeous!" bullshit because really, that doesn't help at all.

I'm going to say this instead:

You are stronger than this, and you deserve better. You are such an amazing and divine and wonderful and beautiful and gorgeous and smart and funny person. All the bullshit you're getting is just ridiculous, because the people who are hating on you are just so stupid, I just want to punch their caked faces.

I've been asking everyone about where you've been, because I'm really fucking worried about you. It's only been two days of your absence, but it feels like 2,000 years.

I really miss you and your smile and your laugh.

You keep me sane, twin.

Without you, I'm just a broken record waiting to be fixed, and then you'll come along and instead of throwing me away you'll keep me because I'm something precious and retro and hipster and you'll love me and instagram me.

You're like the stars in my night sky.

You're everything to me, and just because you feel like you've lost everyone, I'll always be there.

I won't ever take you for granted or ignore you or anything like that, because you're just so precious.

Please don't do anything reckless.

I'm your butterfly, remember?

You're my butterfly; my source of inspiration and motivation.

Just please remember this, just for me, please?:

- Your wrist is not a canvas, and the blade you're holding is not your paint brush.

- Wrists are bracelets, not cutting.

- Your thighs are so cute, please don't litter them with cuts.

I love you, twin.

And not in the incest way,

but more of a best friend way.

Because that's what you are.

The best of the bestest best friends! x