Letter 4.

March 11, 2017

I want to marry you someday. Hopefully life gives me that opportunity to cherish you without limit, no promises unkept, bucket list overflowing, your hand to hold. Don't worry there won't be the nervousness of this proposal for a few years. I want to build a life with you before that, full of noise from all that we love, and the emptiness of the life and love we have yet to give. But there will be other nervous moments with you, asking you questions, finding what makes you tick, discovering the wonderful sweetness of secrets you don't know you've kept for so long. I'll share my everything with you. No judgement, resentment, or hurt will come from me, and if I mess up (because I am me and clumsy and forgetful but ever loving) I will come to you first to figure out how to better cherish you. You are my best friend, my lover, my little star with squishy cheeks (have I annoyed you with that phrase by now? am I too lovey dovey?) my pan dulce cosmica. I will remind you of how worthy you are of your dreams and how big your heart has always shown itself to be. You've got nothing to fear, or hide, or feel uncomfortable about, because there isn't anything that I wouldn't understand or want to talk openly with you about.