I remembered the color of the mug you used on FaceTime.

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

I feel calmer knowing you reply when you can.

I liked that you checked the dessert menu twice.

I saved the screenshot of your playlist cover.

I want to hear the worst pickup line you’ve heard.

I liked the honest way you answered my dumb question.

I noticed you prefer window seats.

I felt brighter after our short chat just now.

I’m interested in the recipe you mentioned; can you teach 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 liked that you ordered extra fries and offered one.

I’m curious which pasta shape you always pick.

I liked how you admitted you were nervous too.

I keep replaying that weird bit of trivia you told me.

I’d like to know the name you call your plants.

I still have the piece of ticket you gave me.

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

I like that you read the backs of cereal boxes.

I smiled at your typo and saved it.

I’m glad you said what you meant earlier.

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

I can’t stop remembering the way you described your dog.

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

I’m looking forward to our next awkward silence.

I want to know the song you play to get ready.

I like how you correct my movie facts without being annoying.

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

I kept the napkin with your doodle on it.

When you laugh I notice everything else feels smaller.

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 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.