There is something strangely beautiful about loving you, even without knowing whether that love will ever be returned, simply because it is you.

Of all the people in this vast universe, somehow it was you I found, you I chose, you I came to love. That choice is mine, the joy, the longing, even the burden of carrying it.

You do not have to become anything else. Just remain you.

Because all I seem to remember is your smile, a beauty that feels almost beyond the language of human beings.

Perhaps that is why poetry exists. So that when ordinary words fail, there is still something left to say about you.