Hey my Love,
We've been together now for 5 years. 5 goddamn years. I'm in this weird headspace just thinking about that. On one hand, it feels like it's only been a day since I first met you, a starry-eyed youth in a stupid outfit. On the other hand, it feels like we've been dating for ages. It feels weirdly like 5 years isn't an accurate representation of our time together.
We've had days that felt like minutes, and days that felt like weeks. We've seen summers go flying past before our eyes, and weeklong visits that lasted seasons. When I'm with you, it feels like the laws of nature don't apply- you are such a force of nature yourself that it all bends around you, and I am always made better for it.
I think about all the time we've spent together and not together, and I can see how I have grown and been shaped by you, and how the same has happened in you. We have evolved together. We've gone from dumbass kids struggling to figure out what we want from life, to dumbass quasi-adults trying to figure out what we want from life.
Though one thing has been made clear. I know that I want you in my life. I know that I want to keep figuring this shit out together, as a team, for the rest of our days, however long they will be.
I am a better version of myself because of you. Actually, fuck that. I am a truer version of myself because of you. I owe you many thanks just for that. I owe you a lot, really. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to repay you for all the good you've done for me, my life.
Though it's not entirely one-sided. I know I've done good things for you too. I know I've helped you, at least a little bit, become more comfortable in your skin. I hope I've helped you grow as an artist. I hope I've helped you learn, and grow, and understand people. I think I might have. I think I will keep doing so.
I love you, lovermuffincake. More than anything I ever have, or probably ever will. I love you more as every day passes. I love you when we are happy, I love you when we're angry. I love you through sadness and through joy and sickness, health, I love you when I don't see you, and more when I do. I love you in a way that 15-year-old me would scoff at.
Hell, I love you enough to write unabashedly on the internet, where anyone can see.