I've been trying to figure out the right way to say this for a while. And then I realised — maybe the right way isn't one thing. Maybe it's all of them.
So I went back. Through the pineapple debate and the 2am phone calls. Through the voice notes and the bad cooking photos. Through the night you told me something real and I didn't try to fix it. Through everything we said, and a few things we almost didn't.
What I found is this: somewhere between "hey, so you actually texted" and everything that came after, you became a very important part of my life. I didn't plan for that. I don't think either of us did. But here we are.
You deserve to be celebrated today — not in a generic way, but in the specific way that only someone who's been paying close attention can celebrate you. Someone who knows about the Seattle job, and the voice notes, and the film you'd seen three times.
I've been paying attention.
This is what I found.
Click any day to read the messages behind it
You once told me you'd been called "too much." I want you to know — that's not a flaw. That's the whole point.
The version of you that sends voice notes instead of texts, that falls asleep during films you've already seen, that says "I love you, I think" before correcting yourself — I've been paying attention to all of it. I didn't look away from any of it.
You made me feel things I'd stopped expecting. That's not a small thing. That's everything.
I hope this birthday is the beginning of a year that treats you the way you deserve — gently, generously, and with a lot of good wine.