“For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.” —Anna and The French Kiss

No one in this world knows me the way you know me. You know my deepest, darkest secret. You know how the littlest of things make me sad. You know all the movies that made me cry. You know every little thing that makes me happy.

Having you in my life feels like an endless loop of everything that’s worthy and everything that’s worth keeping.

Loving you feels like coming home. I know my place and I know that’s where I’m meant and should be.

You are my home; my constant, my best friend, my support system. Having you in my life feels like total freedom. Loving you feels like being in a car ride with the car window wide open, inhaling the fresh air the world has to offer; relaxing and totally navigated to the right place.

You are the person I wanna make pancakes with every Sunday morning. You are the person I wanna bake cookies with at 2AM in our small kitchen. You are the person I wanna come home running to after a long, tiring and shitty day at work.

You are the person I want to totally share how your job gets inside your nerves You are the person I want to share my most frustrated and stressed days with. You are the person I want to cuddle in when the heavy rain kisses our roof.

You are the person I want to spend all my days of the week with. You are the person I want to make love to. You are the person I want to take care of. You are the person I want to love unconditionally.

There is nobody else in this entire universe I wanna come home to but you, and you alone. In your arms, I am home. In your eyes, I’d like to linger.