I appreciate you texting me a photo of your messy desk; it cheered me.

You bringing your headphones so we could both read in silence was perfect.

I’m glad you laughed at my terrible pun; it made me bolder.

You offering to water my plant while I was away was kind.

I loved your honest opinion about the movie; it matters to me.

You making room on the couch so I could sit felt considerate.

I smiled when I found your grocery list with my name scribbled on it.

You leaving an extra charger in my bag was thoughtful and useful.

I appreciate you carrying the umbrella and refusing to let me struggle.

You telling me the route that avoids the construction saved me time.

I noticed the drawer you fixed; I notice you fixing things for us.

You giving me your umbrella when it rained felt simple and good.

You leaving the window cracked on hot nights is such a you thing.

You being patient with the router this morning showed me your calm.

I cheered when I found the note you hid in my jacket pocket.

You saying my name in that crowd cut through the noise for me.

The crooked mug you left on my desk made me laugh twice today.

I keep thinking about how steady your hand was while you fixed the lamp.

You folding my shirts was small but it mattered to me today.

You made my week better by bringing cereal when I forgot to shop.

I liked your voicemail this morning, the way you laughed at the busker.

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.