As you well know, Abby, my words seem to know no end. In the midst, I hope you hear those that express my love for you in addition to those that make you nearly insane. I believe and trust that somewhere in the middle, between the two poles, you know my heart. But just to be sure, know this:
I have never loved you more than I do this day.
Every part of you – seen and unseen.
Every emotion – expressed and hidden.
Every sadness – revealed and withheld.
Every joy – known and secreted away.
Every hope – yours to hold, mine to marvel.
Though I do not begin to know everything – even most – of what goes on in your brilliant mind and beautiful soul, I do know that another’s words speak profoundly and poignantly to both. Instead of my voice, his – expressing my heart:
Protect Your Magic
the problem is you think
you are not magic.
from any distance you
appear as all things stunning
do; they force us to forfeit
all we knew before.
you are exploding stars
and tragically forgotten truths
the way the ocean sways
and ever so illuminating
moons.
you are as magic
as magic gets,
as brilliant as brilliance
is,
as unexplainably
beautiful as anything
has ever been.
to think you are not magic,
well, darling,
i guess even our thoughts
can betray us
and be fools.
protect your magic.
~ Christopher Poindexter
You are magic, Abby. In so many ways you cannot begin to fathom, imagine, understand, or dream. And an obvious, but severe understatement: your presence in my life, from the moment I knew of your existence to this very day, can be described as nothing else:
“you are as magic as magic gets…”
Happy 16th Birthday, sweet girl.
I love you.
Always.