Cuddles, French Toast, Kisses, and Strawberry Sauce

I like the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough.

The ears that aren't big enough.

The eyes that can't take in all the change.

I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.

There's really no one else. Because you give me more love than anyone else could even know. Because you make me feel like the most beautiful, the skinniest, the smartest girl in the world. I know I'm not those things, but when I'm with you, I feel like I have the potential to be. I love what you are, and what you do and how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength that carries you through. I've seen the best of you. I've seen the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. And I love you.

(The thing is, you make me happy. You walked in when it seemed like the rest of the world walked out. You were there. You are there. I never need to pretend when I'm around you, when I'm talking to you, when I'm with you. You're hilarious; you make me laugh all the time. You seem to pick up that something's wrong before everyone else does, and you know exactly what to say to make it all okay, and even if it's only for a little while, it helps. The thing is, I love you. Thank you, for everything.)