The first time I heard you laugh, I only wanted to say funny things so you would always be laughing. You know what happens to chocolate when you leave it out in the sun? I’m that unfortunate chocolate and you, you are the laughing sun. For this reason, I am offering myself to you not as a martyr or some selfless fool, but as a self-indulgent moth who actively pursues the light without much fear for the flame. The moth who revels in the heat and declares: Burn me.

How is it that there was never youuntil there wasand then all was you?

These five words you utter make the sun rise again: “I’m going to come home.” How is it possible for one person to be the sole reason for my existence? When I hear you say these golden words, the warmth spreads from my stomach until it reaches my pulsating fingertips. How is it possible for one person to be the sole reason for my ecstasy? These five words your utter are even more precious when I’m holding you tight and you whisper only four of them. Because then, I’m really home.

How hard it was for me to find you the perfect gift. I had looked everywhere and considered every idea until I had an epiphany and felt as wise as the magi. For my gift would be simple. For my gift would be honest. How hard it was for me to wrap myself neatly and feign sobriety. Yet, how easy it was for you to pull the ribbon and uncover me. Exposing my fears. Exposing my desires. How hard it was for me to gift myself to you. Yet, how easy it was for you to make me undone.