I am living for the day when I find someone who will love me even when I am sad. Even when depression leaves scars on more than just my skin. Even when anxiety makes me ugly. Even when I don’t want to be loved. And I don’t buy into the bullshit that you can’t love someone until you love yourself first because my chest is burning with a passion for a familiar stranger that I haven’t yet met. And I have nothing but love to give to the person who sees something in me worth loving. Because a blind man still wants to know what the world looks like. Still wants to believe in what he cannot see.  And I am living for the day when they find me. And they will tell me that they love me without exceptions and I will believe them. And I will believe that there is something in me worth loving. Even if I can’t see it.