It wasn’t just the heat of the moment. Ask me for anything. The answer is yes.

I don't know what was in my head before I met you. What did I even think about? Because whatever it was, it's not in there anymore. It's gone. I am completely, one hundred percent all the time filled up with you.

Like that time you were half-asleep and rolled with your shoulder in my larynx and said, “Can you breathe?” And I couldn’t really but didn’t need to either, because air seemed unnecessary with all that happiness in my chest.

It’s an amazing phenomenon: Every time I reread your letter that says “Ask me for anything,” I find there is nothing more I need or want.

I am jealous. I’m envious of the easy options all the rest of you enjoy. To date someone or not to date someone? Does she like him? Does he like her? You can try out whatever you like and change your minds at any time. Everyone is available to everyone else. Me? I might be permitted to admire someone from afar, to harbor a yearning in secret, but to act on it would cost me everything.