Tell me what you love.
If I look you in your eyes and ask you to tell me what you love, the answers will likely roll off of your tongue. You love pizza and crafting and roller coasters and poetry. You love to read, you love to write, you love music, birds, tattoos, obscure documentaries, and the color of the sun filtered through the smoke of a wildfire. You love your boyfriend. Your mom. Your brother. Your sister. Your daughter. Your best friend. Your dog. Your grandmother. Your cousin. Your son. Your aunt. Your wife. You love pastries and foreign languages and folk music the way it feels to itch a bug bite. You love early mornings and late nights and study breaks and hugs and sentimental cards on your birthday. How long do you think you could go on and on before you said, "I love myself."
Most people go a lifetime.
