Dear you, with bags under your eyes because you have spent the last three nights crying. Dear you with your hair a mess because life won this morning. Dear you with worn out shoes because no one could walk more than a mile in them besides you. The you that covers it up with concealer, a high bun that is "supposed" to look messy, and some earrings to distract from the rest. You that turns those tears to lyrics and a reason to start again. You that is confused and scared but knows that means you are living. You are something special and you are worth it if you will listen. Listen to the breeze as it brushes past your skin as your windows roll down on the highway. To the moon when it says that even in the dark, a light will soon bring a new day. To the smiles of strangers and glances of eyes to the random sweet compliment that will catch you by surprise. To the questions that you ponder and the new city just yonder, to the chances and the risks and all that they hold inside. Listen when God is telling you, "You are my holy child." You are not like the rest, nor will you ever be; but isn't that the beauty of it all and can't you see it's your destiny. Dear you, a beautiful mess, a walking contradiction, you have all you need deep within yourself to make a new realization; that you are loved, that you are enough. You always have been and you always will be.