For Textured Souls

Loving someone with texture is like touching velvet. You rub your hands one way and it is soft, silky and satisfying. The opposite direction is more rugged, but not overwhelmingly horrible. These same people, the people with texture, are the ones we call damaged. They are carrying heavy baggage. Their past leaking into their present and somehow making them less than. Making them hard to love. Hard to be around. Hard to digest. But they are not negative, they are positive. The texture in their souls will give you something to grip while you're slipping. The texture is like a pattern, it creates movement and suggestion to your eyes in which direction to look. It is true, the texture may make them a little bit heavier to carry on your back. A heavy drapery will create strong muscles. Strong muscles that will learn to love this touchable texture.
Their scars may be their texture, on the outside so beautifully visible. Pink and raw. Their scars may be on their feet. On their ribcage, in their marrow. Loving someone with texture is discovering a new ripple or fold each morning. It is loving deeper and softer than you thought you could. Loving someone with texture is loving your own textures. It is finding the beauty in tweed, velvet and chewed fingernails.