Dearest she,

I never took the time to thank you; You have carried me through these trials with patience.
I have bled, scarred, and rejuvenated under your tutelage.
I am grateful for your reminder to be better than the shadows that have always followed me so diligently; while darkness spread, you molded caves of truth. As you roamed in the deep crevices of my sentiments, you fabricated dimensions of safety. Cautiously translating those corrupted images into languages only you and I could ever comprehend.
Frankly, I am pained by the routes you have taken. These heels, carved with your roots, still seem to find their way through the trees. I turned a blind eye to the breadcrumbs of my ancestors while passing the familiar yet empty roadstead, only for the outcome to be the same. I am grateful for your beautiful insanity, courage, and your uniqueness.
Carefully cultivated on your terms, I carry your teachings with me as I do my mothers.
I stand forever indebted to you for never shielding me from opportunity.
Your passion has kept me in constant fruition. There is no one I would rather travel through this metamorphosis we call life. I may not have treated you with the fairness you deserved throughout these years.
You have never disregarded my tears.
You have used them to water my fears so I may face them with you by my side. You have demolished my dragons. Your sword has yielded my path towards greatness.
Someone once said that in unity, there is strength, and together we are one.
This matrix may be deadly, but all my strength has come from the cries of our wars.
I am she, you are me, and we are together. There is no “one” dream. I have many. I will keep pushing and shoving through the heavy waterfalls I blindly throw myself in.
I know now that the love I found within you, self, I am strong and can do it all.
Thank you.