I texted to say I’m proud of you after your call, not before I forgot.

I turned the heater down because you get hot and I like that you fall asleep faster.

I’ll sit through your least favorite film if you pick the next one.

I traded my sandwich for yours because I liked how you rolled your eyes.

I want to be the person you brag about to your sister.

I saved the last piece of cake for you, wrapped on the counter.

I’ll remind you to eat when you forget because work runs too long.

I replaced the batteries in the remote so you don’t have to stand up.

I rewound the audiobook to the chapter you missed on the commute.

I will carry the heavy box up the stairs for you without asking.

I kept the receipt for the plant you liked in case you change your mind.

I want to be the person you call when something good finally happens.

I left a note on the fridge so you don’t forget your passport.

I read your bad jokes out loud to my dog and laugh anyway.

I enjoy that you eat the crusts and leave the middle for me.

I made a list of the small repairs you mentioned and booked the handyman.

I’ll say no to plans I don’t want just so we can have the evening we both need.

I put your spare key under the cracked paving stone, same spot as last time.

Your favorite sweater is in the wash; I didn’t want the mustard stain to set.

You steady me when I plan too many things and then panic.

I’ll drive across town at midnight if you call and sound tired.

I notice when you change your ringtone and I like the one you picked.

I stayed up to finish that episode so you wouldn’t watch alone.

I remembered to refill the sugar because you mentioned it ran out last week.

I want to argue with you and make up, every single time.

I kept your towel on the radiator so it’s warm when you get out of the shower.

I feel proud telling my sister about the time you fixed the heater.

I promise to answer the door at midnight when you come home from work.

I like that you keep one pillow out of line; it means you relaxed here.

I feel a simple joy when your playlist starts and I know your mood.

I want to be the one who packs your lunch when mornings are rushed.

I notice your penmanship and the way you cross your t's; it feels familiar.

I will stand in the parking lot and wait for you, no matter how late.

I like that you reheat coffee twice and still drink it, stubborn and human.

I will always read the last page of the book for you if you ask.

I feel calmer when you schedule things, because you carry the dates for both of us.

I want to learn to fix that squeaky door hinge you always ignore.

I will bring you soup when you have a cold, even if I hate chopping onions.

I notice the way you tighten your shoelaces and think about small rituals.

I will argue with you about which movie is better and then let you pick.