He doesn't really see himself
not like I do.

He cares about the pictures people take of him
and he always glances when passing a mirror.

He says he isn't perfect,
but I disagree.

He doesn't see the way people smile at him when he says hello,
or the way he squints when he reads.

He can't hear himself laughing at his own jokes, even when they aren't funny, and he truly believes he is hysterical.

He doesn't have the privilege of being held in his strong arms, and knowing there is no safer place in the entire world.

But I do.

I have the privilege of loving him, and seeing him for what he really is.


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