To Let it Be

I don't know what to call this and I don't really care enough to give it a name. Not at this point. For now, I am content to just let it be.

Whatever in the Infinite Realms that means. (Ah, Existentialism, my old half-dreamed friend.)

You're beautiful and you make me feel beautiful, like you see me as I wish I really was. And because you see it, it makes me think that maybe that's the way I really am. I hope I do the same for you, because those are the people one wants to hold on to: those who see not just what we seem to be, but what we are.

What can we do but grow from that? Grow tall and strong and beautiful, dark side and all (I do believe that's commonly referred to as "humanity," BTW).

Maybe that's what this is, though that doesn't explain why. (I still don't care.)