You make plans and also make room when I cancel; that relief is big.

You told me I was okay when I couldn’t believe it myself.

You saved the concert tickets and that memory is one I keep reaching for.

You bring absurd snacks when I’m depressed and force me to eat something real.

You laugh at my worst jokes and that feeling is worth more than applause.

I love getting your voice note first thing; it sets my whole day differently.

You make small failures less embarrassing by laughing at them with me.

You bring snacks to my late shifts and change the whole night for me.

You make giving advice feel less like instruction and more like company.

I appreciate how you remember everyone’s birthdays and still forget your own keys.

That playlist you sent is still on repeat and it fits my mood perfectly.

I felt glad today remembering the way you corrected my pronunciation and laughed.

I’ll be the person who holds the umbrella when you forget yours again.

I feel steady when you say my name, nothing dramatic, just steady and real.

I loved how you defended that small idea in the meeting; you sounded sure.

I appreciate how you organized the bookshelf; your orderliness is useful and real.

I’m thinking of how you hummed while cooking and feeling quietly happy.

I felt lighter after your message today; thank you for that ordinary kindness.

I’ll bring you the blanket you like from the closet without being asked.

Your patience with the cashier made me notice how gentle you are.

I like texting you bad puns because your groan is worth the effort.

I’m glad you asked for help today; asking is brave and I noticed.

You were right about the new route home, and I’ll admit it without drama.

I kept the napkin you doodled on; the crooked heart is my favorite mess.

Can I be the person who brings you tea when the migraine hits?

I’m thinking of you and feeling steady and warm, no grand words, just steady.

I noticed your chipped mug and kept it—small evidence you were here.

I miss your laugh in the kitchen while you argue with the oven timer.

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.