Sometimes love is when you knit scarves for a hedgehog and he throws them off every time. But you keep going anyway. Because it's important to give warmth, even when it's not asked for. I guess that's who I am. And maybe somewhere out there is someone who

Daily.

Those who aren't afraid to be a little weird. Who laugh at themselves and say “I get you” - not for propriety, but because they really listened. I love those who are alive inside. Not polished, not glossy, but real - with scars, with humor, with soul.

I won't offer you the perfect image. I won't play a role. But I know how to be real. Sometimes I'm funny, sometimes I'm confused. But always real. I listen carefully, even if I don't understand every word. And I can be there for others when they don't care.

It's hard for me to be with those who think that feeling is stupid. Those who put on masks, turning communication into a game without any sincerity.