1. Thankyou for never asking me if my writing is about you - it often is, but it often isn’t. I have no idea whether or not you are aware of the pieces you inspire, or if perhaps you read between the lines and come away with messages I never meant to convey; either way, thankyou for never having made me clarify. I might lie to you if you did.
2. Thankyou for taking my plates out of my room when I can’t.
3. Thankyou for never asking why I can’t, or acknowledging that you do it simply because I can’t - I know and you know that’s the reason, but it would make me cry for you to say it aloud. Thankyou.
4. Thankyou for allowing me to hypothesise about a future, when the future’s so uncertain when it comes to the young and in love. Thankyou for reassuring me that you’ll still love me when I’m eighty; I can see behind your eyes sometimes that you’re wondering if you’ll even still remember my name at that point, but you know I need to believe in it to keep it going. Thankyou for knowing that I need a future, even an imagined one, to deal with being in love.
5. Thankyou for crying in front of me.
6. Thankyou for still fucking me after the worst night; thankyou for kissing salt from my cheeks and lips as the sun rose and I became delirious, thinking I am sure, that maybe we weren’t ever going to be okay but needing one another’s warmth in an evening so devoid. Thankyou for knowing that I needed it; thankyou for needing me too.
7. Thankyou for dragging me through forests and on nature walks and to the beach when all I wanted to do was stay at home and lie in bed with you - happiness with you is a blur I hope will continue forever, but having memories of waterfalls makes the moments during which we pause, as if to click a camera shutter, taste a little sweeter.