Some of the people I love most in the world are broken.  Aren’t we all?

It might sound bad to say, “I love you for your brokenness”, but this is what I mean:

I love you for your imperfections.  You don’t have all the answers, and you don’t pretend that you do. You don’t always know what to do, or what to say, and you know it.  Sometimes, you say the wrong things.  Sometimes, you DO the wrong things. 

You can be prideful and stubborn and afraid to you admit you are wrong because you are afraid you will be loved less.  In reality, I would love you even more.

You are imperfect, and you know it.  You try to be a good person, a better person each day, and you know you can always do better.  You are your own worst critic.  Aren’t we all? Nevertheless, you TRY.

I love you, in part, because you are broken and imperfect. And, because you know you are imperfect, you are able to love broken, imperfect me. With all my flaws, fears and foibles.  And I am grateful for that.