gotta

I’ve gotta like the unlikeable. I’ve gotta like the ones that talk a little too loud and forget to smile when they’re supposed to. I’ve gotta forget the words and admit I’ve lost them, instead of fumbling and fidgeting, smiling and tucking hair behind my ear where it was before I started tucking. When the confidence comes easier, I’ve gotta remember when it didn’t. I’ve gotta remember when I was just me — eighteen and influenced and thinking only every other day. I’ve gotta start listening and realizing that they’ve stepped the miles between here and there, and I’m only looking over the map of the journey. I’ve gotta thank them for the love. I’ve gotta stop proving and start loving. I’ve gotta keep praying for them, not because they don’t understand… but because I don’t, and they’ve gotta deal with me. I’ve gotta believe that.

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