How often I wonder what path my existence would have taken me down if we had never met. I might be a heartbroken vagrant, no purpose or meaning in life, forever mourning the loss of my first love - you know him well. Maybe I would end up a trophy girlfriend, draped around the neck of my sixth-grade crush like a Mardi Gras necklace. Or perhaps I would give up on love altogether, spend the rest of my days drowning my sorrows in literature and the empty promises of technology.
Fate can be cruel with hands dealt, but she obviously did something right when she shuffled our decks together, intertwined our lives like the strands of a first-grade friendship bracelet - certainly not perfect, but overflowing with sincerity.
And that brings me to you: my moonlight, my poetry, my everything. Words are never enough to describe you, and as such, emotions and sensations take their place. One day I fear that these, too, may fail to fully capture that which is you. But until that day comes, I shall continue to praise you in the only way I know how - through my heart. Every poem - nay, every word that falls from my lips - holds a piece of it. To you alone I trust these sentiments.
Whether you feel the same or not is your business. Emotions have never come as easily as poetry has, and I'll leave them to someone who understands them better. So I'll leave you as you are, nothing more or less - perfect.