Dear Man I Haven’t Met, November 4, 2016

I want to steal all your bacon, right off your plate, only to have you invent distractions and steal them right back again.

I want to bake you lopsided cake and somewhat disappointing toast, that you eat anyway, pretending you like it that way.

I want to show you that love can be fun and declaring it (over and over every single day) inventive.

I want to have inside jokes nobody gets except us.

I want to sneak kisses that make you blush and stammer.

I want to lean against you un-selfconciously. Find your hand without looking. Consider your shoulder my landing pad.

I want to feel my face soften with affection when I catch sight of you for the 3,000,000 time.

I want to know what it sounds like when you laugh. When you mutter. When you sigh.

I want to constantly say “I want to remember you this way”