A letter to you

If I could write a letter to you, I would tell you how I hope you love yourself the way I love you. 

I hope you take yourself out and treat yourself and truly believe in your beauty and in the beauty of everything around you.

I hope you're quirky. I hope you're a square peg in a round hole and I hope you like it that way, because sometimes I feel the same. 

I hope you like picnics and lemonade and polaroids. I hope you take pictures of yourself laughing and smiling and more than anything I hope those laughs and smiles are genuine.

I hope you choose the scenic route when you can and I hope you cherish the taste of ripe tomatoes and the feeling of sand between your toes.

I hope you laugh so hard you cry and cry only with happiness. 

I hope you spend your Sunday afternoons losing yourself in a city you've lived in your whole life. I hope you spend evenings and early mornings marveling at architecture and the simplicity in the beauty of the sunlight shining through the leaves of the oak in the backyard.

I hope music soothes your soul and dancing calms your bones.

I hope you sing loudly and dance freely and are unafraid of judgement and ignorance.

I hope you have too many wonderful nights to remember and many peaceful mornings you swear you'll never forget.

I hope you go to sleep tonight, knowing in your heart that you are loved. 

And when you wake in the morning, I hope you love you like I love you. 

Because, really, at the end of the day, that's what matters.