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The Nomadic Soul.

The most cliché, are just a few of the reasons I love you.

You met me during an internal emotional battle that those who had surrounded me everyday for years had never picked up on.

Hell, most fought me assuming I had an attitude for no reason (which was not completely false).

Through all the weed smoke and heavy intoxication, you always handled me tender without a single touch. Where most just “mhm” you follow along to every rambled story.

Your soul is truly nomadic. Never knowing where it or you feels ‘at home’. That is in surroundings, in people and even love.

It is easier for you that way.

To not over complicate what already complicates you.

I just wish you would let others know you the way I do.

I just wish you believed all the affirmations in which I remind you of but not limited to why you matter more than most.

These ways in which I feel to my depths.

You are a natural protector, even though your saviors made you feel anything but that.

The way you walked miles to pick my sobbing soul off of the floor of my apartment when I shut the world out.

The way you tackled my flesh and blood to the ground to protect the other half of my heart.

Your ways never have a rhyme or reason, they are innate.

Nothing in your life is described in excuses.

They “are just what they are, Taylor. I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

The island claims your heart, but on the road is what keeps your core captive.

Like my favorite N’Sync song lyric, “your soul is like a secret that I never could keep.”

No matter where the journey leads, my “right hand” is what you will always remain.

To this I promise you.

“God must have spent, a little more time on you.”

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