You point out when I’m close to giving up and don’t let me.

I feel safer when you drive me home after a late shift.

You sent me a photo of the stray cat we tried to name.

I appreciate you checking the heater when it acted up.

You let me rant for ten minutes then hand me a solution.

I like your honest text at 7 a.m. more than any polished message.

You remind me of birthdays I bury in my calendar.

I notice when you pick up my favorite snack at the store.

You still keep the playlist we made on that road trip.

I admire how you own your mistakes.

You brought soup the night my throat closed up.

I feel lighter after we talk through a mess.

You taught me how to fold fitted sheets.

I relax knowing you’re the one I can complain to without explaining.

You forgive me when I cancel plans last minute.

I’m glad you drove five extra minutes to drop off my charger.

I’m grateful you tolerate my terrible puns.

You kept the concert ticket stub from our first terrible band.

You remembered my coffee order and picked it up.

I feel steadier after an hour on the phone with you.

I get relieved when I see your name pop up.

You saved the movie night by bringing the extra blanket.

I trust you with my apartment plant and my secrets.

I love how you answer honestly, even when it’s awkward.

You’re the person I call when my phone battery dies and I need directions.

I appreciate you texting the check-in I always forget to do.

I still remember the scar on your thumb from that camping trip.

You fixed my bike chain by the park without asking for anything.

I feel calmer after I tell you one stupid worry.

You showed me the back alley bakery where the croissants are thin and good.

I like that you steal my hoodie and never return it.

You know the exact song to send at 2 a.m.

I noticed you staying up to answer that message so I could sleep.

I miss your laugh in the kitchen when the toast burns.

You kept my spare house key after I lost mine on Elm Street.

I picture us still sending each other one-line check-ins that mean everything.

I'll keep offering to help paint rooms even when our arms are sore.

I want to know we'll still meet weekly for bad takeout and better company.

I want to be the person who remembers your birthday before Facebook does.

I want a future where your plant collection takes over my kitchen counters.