Good Enough
And he tells me that he loves me, and that I’ll always be perfect to him.
He tells me I’m beautiful on days that I think otherwise. He tells me that I can say I’m worthless until I’m blue in the face, but I’ll always be more than good enough for him. He tells me that he can’t imagine his life if he hadn’t met me, and he says that he loves me as much as he loves his band and his fans. He says that I’m everything to him, and he’s got to have the hugest heart on the planet because his band and his fans are his everything, too.
He says that I’m pretty on days when I hate my body, and he’ll look me in the eyes and pet my hair and smile when he knows I’m in doubt. He’ll cuddle with me and let me cry on him, and when I’m done, he tells me he loves me with all his heart. He tells me he can’t wait until we have a family, until we have the perfect life together, and he tells me he can’t wait until the day I can see myself as beautiful.
He’s talking about my physical attributes when he calls me pretty. My hair, my eyes, my smile, my face. But when he calls me beautiful, he’s looking past the physical parts of me. He tells me I’m brilliant and that I should write more, and he’s told me on more than one occasion that he’s jealous of my mind. He says it’s a place full of worlds that most people would kill to see, and he says that he would kill to be able to write even a part of it down the way I do.
I call him Ruki sometimes. Because that’s what the fans call him, and that's the position I used to be in. Listening to his music, humming along with the words, loving the band and the music from afar. I used to be the faceless admirer, and then he met me, and in some miracle, fell in love with me, asked me to move in with him, asked me to be his girlfriend, asked me to be his wife. So on nights when he looks like the man on the stage, the man with the glory and the shine and the lights, he’s Ruki to me, because Ruki is a part of him.
Ruki is outgoing and Ruki is loud and Ruki has the widest grin anyone’s ever seen and Ruki can melt a million hearts with a single glance. Ruki is what the world sees. Ruki is what the world loves.
But Ruki isn’t the man that tells me I’m pretty and that I’m brilliant and that I’m beautiful and worth it and more than good enough. Takanori is.
And that man is the most amazing person I’ve ever known.
Takanori is quiet and Takanori is humble, and Takanori has the most beautiful smile when it’s small and slow and Takanori has the softest touch when he’s holding my face and kissing away my tears. Takanori has the biggest heart when he tells someone like me, someone struggling with self-image, that she’s beautiful and worth it, and Takanori is amazing when he comes home at night with letters from fans in his hand.
He reads the letters, and he smiles at them, and he cries at them, and he feels what the fan must have felt when the letter was written.
And then he holds me. And he strokes my hair.
And he tells me that he loves me, and that I’ll always be perfect to him.
He says that I’m pretty on days when I hate my body, and he’ll look me in the eyes and pet my hair and smile when he knows I’m in doubt. He’ll cuddle with me and let me cry on him, and when I’m done, he tells me he loves me with all his heart. He tells me he can’t wait until we have a family, until we have the perfect life together, and he tells me he can’t wait until the day I can see myself as beautiful.
He’s talking about my physical attributes when he calls me pretty. My hair, my eyes, my smile, my face. But when he calls me beautiful, he’s looking past the physical parts of me. He tells me I’m brilliant and that I should write more, and he’s told me on more than one occasion that he’s jealous of my mind. He says it’s a place full of worlds that most people would kill to see, and he says that he would kill to be able to write even a part of it down the way I do.
I call him Ruki sometimes. Because that’s what the fans call him, and that's the position I used to be in. Listening to his music, humming along with the words, loving the band and the music from afar. I used to be the faceless admirer, and then he met me, and in some miracle, fell in love with me, asked me to move in with him, asked me to be his girlfriend, asked me to be his wife. So on nights when he looks like the man on the stage, the man with the glory and the shine and the lights, he’s Ruki to me, because Ruki is a part of him.
Ruki is outgoing and Ruki is loud and Ruki has the widest grin anyone’s ever seen and Ruki can melt a million hearts with a single glance. Ruki is what the world sees. Ruki is what the world loves.
But Ruki isn’t the man that tells me I’m pretty and that I’m brilliant and that I’m beautiful and worth it and more than good enough. Takanori is.
And that man is the most amazing person I’ve ever known.
Takanori is quiet and Takanori is humble, and Takanori has the most beautiful smile when it’s small and slow and Takanori has the softest touch when he’s holding my face and kissing away my tears. Takanori has the biggest heart when he tells someone like me, someone struggling with self-image, that she’s beautiful and worth it, and Takanori is amazing when he comes home at night with letters from fans in his hand.
He reads the letters, and he smiles at them, and he cries at them, and he feels what the fan must have felt when the letter was written.
And then he holds me. And he strokes my hair.
And he tells me that he loves me, and that I’ll always be perfect to him.
♠ ♠ ♠
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