I love you.

Maybe you just rolled your eyes, but I love you.

You may not know me personally,

You may not accept my love,

You may not believe it is real,

Or maybe you’re afraid it’s not.

It’s a bit ridiculous, but I love you.

But I don’t love you

Because you got into Princeton.

I don’t love you because you get good grades,

Because you do that club or that sport,

Because you got that award,

Because you have friends.

I don’t love you for what you do,

Because if I did, what happens when you stop doing it?

I love you for who you are,

And who you are is a person that exists in this world,

The fruit of a thousand generations,

a person who I may one day get to meet.

I am reminding you of this

Because I, too, forget.

In our bubble, we forget why we are loved:

We start to be convinced

That a club, an internship, a job makes us worthy of love,

That our existence is not enough.

But it is enough. You are enough.

And when you forget this, just know

That at least one person in this world,

and probably many more,

cares about you

simply because you exist.