I read a quote once that went a little something like this: “Sometimes when you met someone, there’s a click. I don’t believe in love at first sight but I believe in that click.”
Well done, my human.
I will love you in the truest, most unexplainable sense. I will love you in the darkness, I will love you in the light, and I will love you in the chasm that lies in between.
I wish you knew all those things. And a million more. Because I want to know a million and one things about you. And I’m learning.
When someone says, “It looks like you could use a hug,” and you could use a hug so bad you almost cry a single tear in gratitude.
I can’t help but laugh with you. It’s not just my normal flirtatious I’m-on-a-first-date laugh that I’ve practiced in the mirror; you make me do my true, ugly laugh.
I want to look at you when we are 80 and say, “We made it through.”
But I don’t want something reasonable, or rational, or well thought-out. I know you aren’t the lucid, practical choice, but you’re what I want.
If they tell you you’re wrong about something, your anger subsides a lot faster in the effort to work something out.
Like the way you’ll sit through foreseeably awful romantic comedies with me and never comment on their predictability, because you know that I find comfort in knowing what’s to come.