I left the spare keys where you always check because you’ll be back late.

I saved the funny meme you sent for when I needed it later.

I’ll put on the kettle as soon as you unlock the door.

Tell me exactly how annoyed you are and I’ll bring the bad tv show.

I like hearing your tired laugh over my voice notes when you get home.

I noticed your scuffed shoes and left the shoe polish out for you.

Seeing your message at 6:02 made the dark bus ride feel shorter.

I appreciate you letting me eat the fries while you were distracted.

I stayed up an extra ten minutes waiting for your ‘I’m home’ text.

I folded the shirt you left on my chair; it’s ready on the couch.

Tell me the dumb office story before you shower, I need it.

Your jacket smells like coffee; I like that it smells like you.

I’m making the playlist you always skip so we can laugh at it together.

You left your blue pen on my desk; I put it in your bag.

My feet are up and I'm smiling because you texted the stupid joke earlier.

I like that you answer my texts even when you’re elbow-deep in files.

I held onto the ticket stub you dropped; it’s on my desk now.

I keep replaying the way you corrected me gently in the meeting — thank you.

I’m still grinning about the ridiculous selfie you sent — it made the overtime bearable.

I have your sticky highlighter; it’s on my desk if you want it tomorrow.

I stayed late and found your sketchbook open; your drawing made me pause.

I’m still thinking about the way you explained that one spreadsheet row — oddly lovely.

I like how your messages are short and exactly what I need.

I noticed your playlist on the speakers and it made my ride home better.

After the meeting I kept replaying your answer — it stuck with me.

You left your notebook under the lamp; I’m holding it at my desk.

I kept your pen by accident; can I bring it to you tomorrow?

I can’t stop smiling at the bus stop thinking about your message earlier.

You still have the hummus container in the office fridge, I’ll bring chips tomorrow.

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.