I recalled the small sketch you made and carried it with me all day.

I noticed the soap you prefer and left some for you on the basin.

I kept your compliment from the other day and visit it often.

I thought of you while I watered the geraniums on the sill.

I smiled at the memory of you reading aloud in the kitchen.

I noticed you left the candle half-burnt and imagined your hands tending it.

I held the ribbon you braided and wished for another hour with you.

I thought of you when the postman came and brought no letter.

I remembered the cut on your thumb and worried until you answered.

I kept your sigh from our bench in my head all afternoon.

I prized the small coin you gave me and keep it in my watch case.

I admired the way you folded the letter and tucked it away.

I carry the memory of your walk down the lane with me.

I noticed the dent on your pocket watch and thought of you.

Seeing your pen on the table made me want to write you a proper note.

You left the teacup on the sill; I washed it and felt foolishly glad.

I kept your silk handkerchief in my coat pocket today and smiled at it.

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 will carry your heavy bag up stairs without making it a thing.

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.

I feel lucky when you text a photo of your lunch just to show me.

I like that you make grocery lists in pencil and erase two items every time.

I promise I'll remember to charge your phone before trips, even if I forget mine.

I want to sit with you in silence and have it be enough.

I love that your jacket smells faintly of rain even after weeks.

I am annoyed that you always beat me at Scrabble, and I plan my comeback.

I will learn the song you like so I can hum it while you sleep.

I feel grateful when you check my hand in a crowded room.