I can’t tell today from yesterday. I’m not even too sure what day it is. I’ve fallen asleep in the car and on the floor and next to you. I’ve been awake for years. But it doesn’t matter because even when I’m dreaming I’m thinking of you. All that matters is you were here then and not now. 

I’m not sure if I understand what’s going on but I love it. I love it I love it I love you I love this. I squeezed your hand three times while you were sleeping. Even if you were awake you wouldn’t have understood me. Sometimes I don’t even understand me. It made sense then. 

I’m glad we got lost. I’d get lost anywhere with you. I can pretend we don’t have to go back. I wish we would have went farther. It was so late and everything was so quiet. I wish I could have listened to you forever. I would. I will. I’m willing. 

No one on earth cares about me like you do. Which makes me feel like the keyboard when I’m running my hands across it and it makes me feel like the snow on the 41st floor that wouldn’t let me capture it to show you. I feel like my chest is going to explode and it won’t make any noise at all because I gave it all to you. I forget who I’m writing to sometimes. I never wrote anything for you. But it was all about you. One day you’ll realize this is all for you. Every little piece of it has always been for you. 

I know we’re both lost. But something about you makes me feel like I’m here for a reason. Like someone made it this way. Maybe someone wrote it out. The book of you and me.