You're a different dimension— a different world.
You're a broken poetry with a background sound of an Arctic Monkeys song. You're of paramount importance to the universe of broken hearts, shining, wishing stars, and the theory of how waves collided. You have no idea how the sound of your laughter could awaken all the dead bodies buried a hundred feet below. You have the brightest smile, comparing it to the moon at night. Your big heart matches the way I feel about the bright lights and tall skyscrapers of New York City— infinite. They make me feel infinite. Just like my favorite Van Gogh painting, you make my heart sing. You make my heart feel alive and make me want to live for so long that I would meet those people who would go to ancient libraries a thousand and one years from now; they would read about the love like no other and gush about how it was everything that they would ever want. You are all that they would ever want.

—e.e