For the first time, I am excited about Christmas.
I don’t ever celebrate Christmas, such a tradition does not run in my family. But it runs in yours; that’s all that matters to me. Christmas is a day for gifting, for warmth, for love—for you.
I don’t consider myself a person of gifting. My love language for gifting is the lowest out of the 5. I think there are more gifts gone to waste than those which are actually appreciated and used. I don’t want to waste my time and money on gifts that will go to waste.
But for you, I’ll do everything to get you something perfect, despite you telling me that you don’t need anything for Christmas.
Your name is a partial homophone with Christmas. You are everything my friends told me that I deserved, everything that I never dared to dream of. You are everything I never believed existed until you are right here in front of me, right here with me. You are everything that healed my wounds, everything that silenced my fears and self-doubts. You are everything deserving, an oasis of comfort and warmth, my shining star. You are every love song I listen to, every romantic quote I read; you are every poem I resonate with, every emotion I bleed.
For you, I don’t think I’ll ever run out of words to say. Yet, nothing I say will ever be enough for how implausibly perfect you are to me.
This is where I know that for once, I can’t sleep because reality is finally better than my dreams (Dr Seuss). This is where I know that for once, the essence of everything is encapsulated in one person, one heart, one soul.
I’d like to keep that. I’d like to keep you forever. You are my greatest gift.
; 