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What I know of You.
The thing I love about you (ok, it’s one thing. one stone in a rock yard of things) is that you have this dream and you don’t let it deflate and stagnate like I do. You don’t lift your skirt and step over it to the petty, self-inflated demands of the day, like I do. You don’t keep it precious and shelved and preserved, like I do. Your thing is smoothed out in front of you, constantly, like a map of the battles you intend to wage by night. And win by daybreak. We are here, because you are fearless. Because you consider nothing impossible. Because you show up, and work and stay the course and steady the ship and keep watch on the horizon, unsleeping. And whether dry land appears or not, you prepare for it as if it lies under the next swell.
Because one day, it will lie under the next swell.
Here is what I know: Your day is coming and when it arrives, you will have earned it. You will be the man to equal your chance. And no one will begrudge you anything. They will nod and admire and say this is how you win the battle. This is how you chart the moon and then fly there.
I love You.