Dear Universe,
There's something I haven't said out loud in a while.
I feel.
Invisible.
Not always,
And not in every room.
But in the places that matter most.
I feel like.
I disappear.
Like I could slip away quietly and no one would notice the shape I left behind.
And I don't know what to do with that.
Because somewhere along the way.
.
.
I started believing it.
That I am easy to leave.
Easy to overlook.
That I am somehow less lovable than other people.
That there's something in me that makes people stay only for a little while.
And I'm tired of feeling like a place people pass through.
So today.
I'm bringing all of that here.
The ache of it.
The quiet shame.
The way I've started flinching before I'm even hurt,
Just to get there first.
I don't need you to fix me.
Cause I don't think I'm broken.
I just need to be reminded.
Gently,
Honestly.
That my worth doesn't live inside someone else's attention.
That being unseen by the wrong people says nothing about whether I deserve to be seen.
That the hunger I feel for connection.
Isn't a flaw.
But it's proof that I still believe in love.
Even after everything that happened.
Help me to stop searching for myself.
In the eyes of people who can't hold me properly.
Help me to stop mistaking unavailability for truth.
And help me to feel.
Even just for a moment today.
That I am wanted here.
In this life.
In this world.
By something larger than any one person could offer.
Because I am here.
I am still here.
And maybe that means something.
Maybe that means everything.
Let me be soft enough today.
To consider it might be true.
That I matter,
Not because someone has confirmed it,
But because I exist.
And existence itself.
Is not an accident.
I am not an accident.
And I am not.
Invisible.
To you.
Amen.
