And as you stand there

Your eyes brimming with tears because you just saw

That commercial

And you are wondering why you even try to maintain your composure when

Everything you feel shows on your face

And your heart is permanently attached to

Your sleeve

 

Let us now praise you.

 

You, as innocent as that tattered toy you’ll never get rid of.

You, as vulnerable as the dawn (though everyone thinks you’re as brave as high noon).

You, with the soul that’s older and deeper than the sea.

 

You are beautiful.

 

You are the one we turn to when we need a

Shoulder to cry on

A hand to hold

Or just some fervent praise to make us feel good about ourselves.

 

You are our biggest fan.

 

And while you sometimes get trapped by that voice in your head that says

You fool

You fool

You fool

Why can’t you just for once

Go for the money

Let it slide

Not take it all so personally

(Although, how else a person would take it is a bit of a mystery…)

And why can’t you learn to just

Suit up and show up and shut up?

 

But no.

 

Your feelings are how you know you’re alive.

 

And while the family you were born into may still call you:

 

Sensitive, too sensitive, waaaaaay too sensitive, weird, artsy, melodramatic, a big ol’ drama queen, psychic, unique, odd, old-fashioned, eccentric, misguided, special, tolerant of ambiguity, optimistic, viciously self-critical, expressive, inventive, pollyanna, misunderstood, different, deluded, ambitious, contrary, talkative, awake, gifted, diverse, scary, intense, playful, iconoclastic, independent, freaky, unrealistic or just plain crazy

 

You know better than to expect them to understand you.

 

And you have made your own

Family of friends and orphans and strays and

You would do anything for them

And have, come to think of it.

 

But you don’t keep score like that. Which is a good thing,

Because you would never come out even.

 

You overshare, overcompensate, overthink, overdo, overanalyze, overtalk and

Overwork – a word for which the past tense is: overwrought.

 

You, my beautiful love, are overwrought.

And we don’t want you any other way.

 

For it is you who looks every single homeless person in the eye.

 

You who can recall the name, birthdate and astrological sign of every person we’ve ever dated.

 

You, who rescues the animals,

Sings to the children,

Spots our moment of despair from across the room and rushes in, heedless, to hug and hold us when we never even knew what hit us.

 

But you knew.

 

You may not believe in psychic ability, but it does seem pretty freaking obvious to you pretty much exactly what is going on with pretty much everybody pretty much all of the time.

 

And you can’t believe we can’t see it, too.

 

And all that discernment and intuition and, yes, sensitivity, makes

Going to parties a horror show and

Getting dressed for parties even worse –

And not being invited to parties the very worst thing of all.

 

But remember about your need for solitude.

 

And remember the joy you feel when you lose yourself in your work, your art, your craft.

 

And remember, please, to take good care of your tender self and not watch scary movies like the evening news and not hang around negative-toxic-energy-vampire-people and remember to move your seductive body and

Lift your eyes to the sky because no one knows like you that:

 

All This Has Come To Pass.

 

And while we all wish you wouldn’t drink so much,

We understand why you do.

 

And we are so grateful to you.

 

You are so beautiful.

 

And we know that it is not that

You are over-sensitive,

It’s just that

The rest of us are under-sensitive.

 

 

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