“I fell in love with myself.
The way that I smiled and laughed and the way I acted when I was tired.
I fell in love with every curve of my body; my stomach; the way I looked in my favorite dress.
I even fell in love with my imperfections: my faces that were less than picture perfect, the parts of myself that I wanted to change; even the parts of myself that I hated before.
I fell in love with myself knowing that it would be the most beautiful love story I would be able to write about. Its consistency would be unending and there would only ever be one side of the story.
I fell in love with myself because I knew I needed it. Unlike the love of a boy who might break my heart or of a friend who may move away, I needed to love myself because it was the only love I could ever count on.
I fell in love with myself knowing I would never be able to write a poem or a story or speak words that do my love story justice, but I would write and speak about it anyway.”