Lately, life has been filled with conversations that leave bruises no one can see.
The kind of conversations that sit with you long after they've ended. The raw ones. The painful ones. The ones about family, about friendships, about loyalty, about who truly shows up and who quietly disappears when life gets hard.
I've been thinking about it all so deeply lately.
And through all the overthinking, through every sleepless night and every spiral inside my own mind, one simple sentence keeps echoing louder than anything else:
"I've got you."
Three little words.
Three words that have come to mean absolutely everything to me.
To my "I've got you" people... I don't think I could ever tell you enough how much you mean to me.
My self-built family.
The people who chose me.
The people who answer the phone whether I'm calling because something wonderful happened or because I'm sitting on the floor completely falling apart. The people who answer when I'm laughing, when I'm crying, when my mind is so broken I don't even know how to stand back up again.
I've been held while shaking with pain. I've cried until it felt like there couldn't possibly be any tears left. I've felt like my soul had been ripped apart, full of holes, with no threads left holding it together.
Or at least... that's what I thought.
Because now I know what my threads are.
My people.
The ones who are often hanging on by a thread themselves, yet somehow still find the strength to hold onto mine too.
The random message that says, "Thinking of you."
"Have a good day."
"I miss your face."
"Come here."
"The kids are safe."
"Everyone's fed."
"You're safe."
You're safe.
Those words have carried more weight than anyone could ever imagine.
My threads have become my safe places.
My home.
My family.
They chose me when I couldn't even choose myself.
There aren't enough words in any language to explain how deeply I love them or how profoundly grateful I am for every single one of them.
And I hope they know that.
I hope they know it on the easy days.
But even more, I hope they know it on the days when I'm horrible and mean. The days when I snap, when I withdraw, when I push everyone away with sharp words and a closed heart. The days when I insist I'm fine, when every part of me is screaming that I'm not.
The truth is, those are the days I need them the most.
Those are the days I'm pretending I don't need anyone because needing people has hurt before.
Those are the days when "leave me alone" really means "please don't leave."
When "I'm okay" means "I'm barely surviving."
When silence is really just another way of asking someone to stay.
I hope they know that my love for them has never once been measured by how well I can express it.
I hope they know that behind every wall I've built is someone endlessly grateful that they keep knocking anyway.
I hope they know that every hug, every late-night phone call, every check-in message, every "have you eaten?", every "I'm outside," every "you're safe" has stitched another tiny piece of my soul back together.
I hope they know that they have saved me in ways they'll probably never fully understand.
And I hope they never question where they stand with me.
Because my love for them is endless.
Always.
On my best days.
On my worst days.
On the days I'm easy to love and on the days I make it feel impossible.
Forever.
My people.
My family.
My safe spaces.
My "I've got you" people.
The threads that quietly keep me together when everything else is falling apart.
And if there is one thing I hope this life never takes from me, it's them.
