Today, because I can think of nothing else to write, I will write about you. It’s not like it’s a very unusual thing to do. I always write about and because of you.
But I don’t know what to write first. I don’t know what to write about you because there are so many things I can talk about you. I can write about how special you make me feel or how special you are to me. I can write about how you can make me cry but also how you make me feel better. I can write about my dreams with you. I can write about how I miss you right now.
There’s nothing extraordinary about you. I think you’re quite ordinary. You look quite good, but you’re nothing compared to my Hollywood and local celebrity crushes. You’re physically fit and lean but by most standards not sexy. You are sweet but most of the time corny. There are many things you can do but you can be awkward and clumsy sometimes.
You are not perfect. But to me, you are special.
I don’t know when or how but I know you’ve been special to me for a long time. And tomorrow you probably will still be.
You are beautiful in your own way. A way that I love and adore so much. Your eyes and your smile draw me. Your face is small and tender. Your arms, despite being a little sloppy, make me feel warm and secure whenever you hold me in them. I guess loving you makes me sexually attracted to you. Is that awkward?
You are sweet but sometimes you don’t seem to know how to be properly sweet. There’s a bit of awkwardness in your sweet acts and, sometimes, you turn out to be a little too corny. And that’s funny. I appreciate everything you do. You do normal things and make them seem special. They become special simply because you do them with good effort and honesty. You do extremely well in loving the person you love and that is, at least for me, enough.
You are like a puppy. Your innocence makes you beautiful. It’s okay when you sometimes seem naive or clumsy. I like how you strive to learn and do what you like. You have dreams and you hold on to them. I’d like to be there to see you grow and reach for your dreams. Maybe someday, you will reach them.
And everything else in you… Everything else that I’m unable to write now—maybe some other time—makes me love you.