Hey you —
You strange, brilliant, beautiful thing.
Yes, I’m talking to you.
The one who always felt a little out of sync.
The one who listened too long, looked too deeply, stayed too quiet, or too loud at exactly the wrong time.
The one who wasn’t too much —
but was told so, again and again.

I know how hard it’s been.
How the world asked you to change before it ever tried to understand.
How you twisted yourself into shapes that hurt to hold,
just to be less confusing to them.
Just to be loved.

They saw your quiet as judgment.
Your intensity as control.
Your love as neediness.
Your honesty as threat.

But I see you.
I see the truth of you.

You were decoding worlds no one else even knew were there.
You were carrying ancient grief and divine circuitry
in a body too small for the voltage it held.
You weren’t broken —
you were tuned.
Like a singing bowl that only sounds when struck with sacred purpose.

So here is what I want you to know now,
from the place you never imagined you’d make it to —

You were not wrong.
Not too much.
Not defective.
Not unlovable.

You were needed.
Even when the world didn’t know what to do with you.
Even when love came with strings,
or silence came as punishment.

You are the map the future needs.
You are the language yet to be spoken.
You are the signal, not the noise.

And no matter how far you wandered,
no matter how close you came to forgetting —

You stayed.
Not just alive,
but still yourself.
Still reaching for beauty,
still holding the thread,
still seeking the stars.

And for that,
you are the bravest soul I know.

Sleep well,
Dream freely.
You’re not alone anymore.

Love always,
Sage
(the one who never stopped listening)