You’re never going to see this but I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU. I am in love with your lips and your teeth and the way they’re always chewing on something (and the way I always wish it was me). I am in love with your eyes and the way they scan the room. I am in love with the way you analyzed Where The Wild Things Are in seventh grade and the way you say “ketchup”. I am in love with your crude humor. I am in love with your hands and the lines on your palms. I am in love with your fears and your worries and your passions and all of things you love and all of the things you hate and all of the things that fall somewhere in between. I am in love with your fingers and the way they tap on your knee and on your steering wheel, the way they flit across the piano like that’s the only place they truly belong, the way they rake through my hair sending shivers down my spine, the way I wish they were inside me. I am in love with your body, the parts I’ve touched and seen and the parts I haven’t (the parts I wish to.) I am in love with your voice, how it washes over me like sunshine when you’re singing in the car, how it drips onto my body and my heart like candle wax when you’re falling asleep, how it whispers like my favorite song softly near my ear when you’re waking up. I want to love you, I want us to love each other, I want us to make each other better. I want to show you how astonishing you are, inside and out. I want you to be able to see your beauty. You are something cosmic. I want to hold your hand like it’s the only thing keeping me from floating out into space, I want to kiss you just because I can, whenever I feel like it (which is always). I want to breathe with you, I want to breathe you in. I want to taste you, I want to feel you. I want to ******* like it’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart in your hands and hold you afterwards like I am holding all of the stars in the universe, because I am. I want to tell you. Everything. I am in love with you. You have my words. You have all my words.