They say they like me,

but I'm not the man of my dreams yet,

not the one who keeps promises to himself,

not the one with peace behind his eyes,

not the one who wakes up proud of how he's living.

They like who I am,

but I still ache for who I could be,

and some days, that gap feels like failure,

like they see a light I haven't fully earned,

and maybe that's what love really is,

not waiting for someone to arrive,

but believing in them while they're still on their way.

and maybe becoming isn't about being ready first,

because it's about rising,

because someone sees who you fully are before you see yourself.