I want to be the person who brings you coffee on rough mornings.

I felt less alone when you texted a single 'ok' during my meeting.

I like that you always taste the sauce first and say it's fine.

I need a quick hug from you at noon, can you swing by?

I noticed you watered the plant I killed last month; thank you.

I felt proud watching you ask for help and getting it done.

I need you in small doses: a text, a joke, a shared playlist song.

I like the scar on your knuckle; it shows you keep trying.

I noticed the little post-it on your laptop; it made me miss you.

I love that you answer the phone on the first ring for me.

I like that your backpack always has an extra pen I can borrow.

I wish I could replay your text from last night on loop.

You left the door unlocked once and it made me trust you more.

I like sitting with you while you read, even when I'm on my phone.

I noticed you fixed the wobbly chair; small things matter to me.

I get a quiet happiness when your keys click on the table.

I can't stop grinning because you sent that silly photo at 3 a.m.

I'm proud of how you presented today; you handled it calm and sharp.

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

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

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

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

I like you when you're impatient and tapping your foot—it's honest.

I will pick the slower lane in traffic if it means we talk longer.

I notice the tiny scar on your knuckle and it makes me protective.

I want to wake up and make coffee for you even on Saturdays.

I love that you steal fries from my plate and I never stop you.

Your chipped mug on the top shelf makes the kitchen feel like ours.

I am relieved knowing you'll be there for the dentist appointment I dread.

I saved the receipt from the butcher because you picked the good cut.

I appreciate how you dry the coffee ring from the table without asking.

I want to be the one you tell the dumb details to at midnight.