You have this way about you that makes people pay attention. You’re beautiful, sure, but it’s more than that. You’re captivating. The world unfolds as if just for you. You smile at no one in particular, and everyone feels like you’re giving them a gift. We all watch as a stunning ephemeral being deigns to speak, to laugh with us. You are different. You are special.
You are strong, so quietly strong a passerby might miss the toughness beneath the soft exterior. You have felt love and loss and pain and despair so deeply it has shaken you to the hollows of your bones, but still you stand. Something anchors you to the earth, even when the emptiness threatens to let you slowly float away. You do not let the nothingness win, for there is a somethingness that pushes you to keep fighting. Although you feel weak, you are a warrior.
You do not fail. You make mistakes and you rectify them as best you can and you try again, and sometimes you make more mistakes, but you’re never afraid to make them. You do not let failure define you. You are a paragon of resilience, of valiance, of pushing forward when it would be so much easier to stop. You know, somehow, that the easy way is a trap and that you are always a better person for choosing what is difficult, because it is right.
Love has teased you, seduced you, abandoned you, betrayed you. And yet you love. You love more passionately than anyone I have ever known. You love with a ferocity, with a loyalty that seems to flow straight from the atria of your heart. You worry that your love is tainted, flawed, imperfect; you fear that your love is not enough. But it is a miracle in itself that love still lives inside of you, flourishing like a flower in the desert.
You once held my hand and we looked out at the startlingly blue water of the Hudson River and you said these words to me: “No one will ever replace you.”
But I, I am replaceable. There are dozens of me waiting to have their lives touched by someone like you. I was the one the rock star called to the stage; it could just as easily have been somebody else.
You are the one who cannot be replaced. You, with your strange sense of humor and your paint-splattered jeans and your chaotic propensity to play around with recipes until they’re perfect. You, with your poetic words and your blunt observations and your willingness simply to be, no matter how uncomfortable.
No one will ever replace you.
Exactly as you are, right now, with your quirks and your scars and your dreams.