I want to borrow the phrase you used; it stuck with me.

I remember the exact sweater you wore the first time we texted.

I wanted to say thanks for staying on the call when I rambled.

I want to ask about the book on your shelf with the torn spine.

I want to steal your jacket when it’s cold, if you’ll let me.

I’d like to hear the stupid story that made you almost miss your bus.

Your message this morning made me check my phone more than usual.

Tell me the name of the street you grew up on, I forgot to ask.

I’m thinking about your terrible coffee order and it makes me laugh.

Your voice on that voice note made me smile in the meeting.

I want to hear about your worst day tomorrow, if you’re up for 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.

I am proud to tell the story of how you insisted on the wrong turning and found that bakery.

I keep the spare keys under the fern pot because you'll laugh and use them.

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.