I’ll bring the takeout you always choose when you want comfort food.

You can sleep an extra hour tomorrow; I’ll cover your morning call.

You said the joke that fell flat; I laughed anyway because it was you.

I miss our stupid routines and I’ll start one again if you want.

You still have that sweater with the hole; I’ll mend it this weekend.

You’re allowed to change your mind about this whole thing; no pressure from me.

You made a clumsy comment in the group and I’m still on your side.

That exam didn’t go well, and that doesn’t decide anything about you.

If you want to cry, I’ll hand you tissues and not make it awkward.

I remember you said you liked mint tea; I’ll bring some over in twenty.

You can take the rest of tonight off from pretending everything’s okay.

I’m sending a bad joke right now and I expect a groan reply.

Your hoodie is on my chair; wear it tonight if you want something familiar.

You can sit with me and not say anything until you want to.

I’m proud of you for emailing them even though you felt sick about it.

You handled that meeting badly and that’s fine, you’ll do the next one better.

I picture us still sending each other one-line check-ins that mean everything.

I'll keep offering to help paint rooms even when our arms are sore.

I want to know we'll still meet weekly for bad takeout and better company.

I want to be the person who remembers your birthday before Facebook does.

I want a future where your plant collection takes over my kitchen counters.

Promise to nudge me when I'm buried in work and forget to eat.

I see us still sharing playlists and swapping books on quiet afternoons.

I'll make sure there's always an extra toothbrush in my bag for you.

Can we agree to clear snow from each other's cars when winter hits?

I misspoke: I don't just hope we'll stay close, I trust we will.

I want a future that includes your terrible puns at every holiday dinner.

I will cheer the loudest when you get the promotion you deserve.

Let's promise to learn basic plumbing together so rental floods don't win.

I like thinking of us checking in with honest texts, not long speeches.

I'll be the one who helps you move boxes, no questions, every single time.

I want to argue about paint colours for an apartment we'll share someday.

I want to keep your postcards from trips and tack them on a corkboard.

I feel sure we'll find ways to support each other's messy ambitions.

I want a future where we still steal fries from each other's plates.

Let's finally learn one recipe together and always mess it up the same way.

I like the idea of decades of mundane texts from you about bus times.

I will always save you the last slice of pizza even if I'm starving.

I imagine us still trading playlists when phones are full of photos.

Tell me you'll remind me to call my mum when work gets messy.