Fifteen-year-old me would've never pictured laying next to you as you slept.
fifteen-year-old me was used to being hurt, and abused, being lost and confused - only knowing heartache.
fifteen-year-old me was lost me, unable to find the light me, the me who never would've ever pictured a you, to love me.
fifteen-year-old me, was the broken beyond repair me, but the you that you are, fixed me, one stitch at a time, mending what others broke of me.
Until I was whole once more.
Twenty two-year-old me, knows of love.
It's two AM and I'm watching you sleep, because the me that I am, will always love the you that you are
for loving
fifteen-year-old me.
About the Creator
Rachel Robinson-Martinez
New mom, 23, psychology major, foodie, plus size, army wife.
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