Sometimes I call you my angel.
It just slips out in moments of passion and love.
I know you don't really like it, but B, that's what you are.
If you hadn't entered my life the moment that you did, I would be dead.
I know it - without a doubt.
In February of 2015, you would've been attending the funeral of your temporary chemistry lab partner.
"You came along and you saved me."
You had no idea what I was going through.
I hadn't even told you the worst parts.
But you were there for me for months.
You kept me going.
You were the coffee I should've been drinking.
---
Because of you, I'm finally comfortable in my own skin.
I know who I am and I am because of you.
You grabbed my hand and led me through the darkness of a bad breakup, bouts of depression, and midnight panic attacks.
You had the uncanny ability to know when I was slipping.
My angel, my guardian angel.
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I've spent the last ten months thanking you
- with my lips, with my hands, with my writings -
but nothing will ever be enough.
I love you endlessly.
I owe you everything.