“I once believed you left because you saw something wrong in me.” (Project 86, Genosha)


His eyes are ready to admit, gleaming with more strength and sadness than they’ve shown in years. The words are heavy, they struggle to rise from his gut, catch in his throat, choke him with the life they contain.

“I deserve better than this.”

Speaking feels like war, like holding the line against certain defeat. It is easier to surrender: this is as good as it gets. But with acceptance comes the lure: if I change, love would stay, grow, embrace.

So we rise and run. We are always chasing the other self. Not because we want it, but because we think it will earn the approval or position or redemption we desire.

If you chase the other self, you will never catch it. It always shifts, transforms the moment you are within reach. It is a mirage. It is nothing. And whoever set it before your eyes – on purpose or out of their own endless pursuit – set up an idol, a god who will only demand and never give.

“I deserve better than this.”

He exhales slowly. His hands are shaking. He closes them into fists, as if he could hold on to this moment with both hands, keep it from slipping through his fingers. Because this truth is simple yet ever so elusive.

Love has no prerequisites. Love changes you, but only in the aftermath; finds joy in who you can become only after it finds joy in who you are. Love is given – a choice as foolish as it is beautiful. Come as you are, and the rest will follow.

“I deserve better than this.”

Repetition betrays doubt, builds belief. Keep building. You are enough as you are. You deserve love – full, abundant, passionate. You are enough. You deserve better than this. You deserve love.