Oh momo, you make me so incredibly happy that I’m brimming with tears and excitement and something much bigger. You make me miss the minutes at night when our eyes close and our fingers entwine (and I’m holding because I need you even when I’m sleeping); and I miss the early minutes of morning when your eyes are still cloudy with dreams and half open to the sun, because maybe I’m wrong, but I swear that’s my favorite picture of you. You make me want to paraphrase every love poem I know, because quoting them would be too easy and not enough. Because I’m breathing you in and I’m breathing out my fears, I know it. I’m breathing life, I can tell, I feel it, and I’m hyperventilating and I don’t care. All I ever want is to fold myself into you and kiss you all over, all over your forehead and eyelids and neck and hands and heart until you understand how important to me to life to the world you are, and still I’ll kiss you after that. And I love you, you know. I want you to know that.