Every night before we go to bed you say “I love you” and I say “I love you bigger.” Then I hesitate to follow that with the truth, the real truth, but before I can make up my mind you sign off. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.
You are my best friend. You live 902 miles away from where I do. I met you two summers ago at a point in my life when I didn’t really know where I was going or what I wanted to do with my life. Then you convinced me to follow my heart and do what I love, even though I’m still uncertain that I’m good enough to make it in that area.
I stay up late hoping I’ll get the chance to talk to you. You are the only person who can say things that make me smile while I’m crying or cheer me up when I’m sad.
We promised each other we’d get married when we turn 25 if we’re still single. You laughed and said that you didn’t think I’d have problems finding someone by then. I tell you I’m not so sure, but it’s not because I don’t think I can find someone. It’s because I don’t want to find “someone”. It’s because I just want to find my way to you.