The hardest person to love...

The hardest person to love was always yourself.

You who sips your cup of black coffee every morning, you with the untamed hair and wrinkled sweaters, you with your habit of overthinking, you with your tongue of quirkiness and you with your weird mannerisms and you you you-

You.

You with the long quiet sighs when you’re having a bad day. You with all your imperfections on the tips of your fingers and memorised like the back of your hand. You with insecurities that you at times think as ridiculous and you - you only being human.

The hardest person to love was always yourself.

Because in a world of colour and shapes; how could you even imagine fitting yourself in it like a missing piece to a puzzle? In a world of society rules and standards, how could you - you find a place for your imperfections to flow out and for your insecurities to fade into something along the lines of pride?

You have to love yourself.

Trace your lines of imperfection with gentle fingertips; breathe in your insecurities like the air of autumn and winds of spring. Be perfect in your own way; whispering how being you was being beautiful and how other people don’t matter and how you were always so so beautiful beautiful beautiful-

The hardest person to love was always yourself.