Let me light up the sky,
light it up for you.

"You're attracted to someone for their good qualities,"
you told me once, "but you fall in love with their faults."

I was wallowing in self-loathing and pity, criticizing myself
for everything I could possibly think of, feeling absolutely
miserable. I told you I was scared-- no, terrified-- of you
being repulsed by these things the stupid boys in my past
listed while they yelled and screamed and I cried and cried.

"I love that you disown me because I don't know the
title of a Queens of the Stone Age album," you went on,
"because that's what makes you you. I love that you
have a 'potty mouth.' I love everything about you, Chel:
good and bad."


Oh, my darling -- and I love everything about you. Good and bad.

And, hell-- the bads are still good anyway.

I will love you forever.

I will love you always.

I will love you either way.