I miss you.
You're my best friend, I know you are even though we've yet to meet, so I miss you. You are my lover, my friend, my partner in crime and all things silly and ridiculous. I can tell you everything and nothing at all. I accept you and understand you, as you do me. There isn't anything we can't do together because we make each other stronger.
Already I would do anything for you and that means being ready for you, even when I'm terrified I never will be. But I know you're waiting for me. Somewhere, right now, I know you are already ready for me, wondering where I am and when the hell I'm finally going to show up. It's not just a feeling anymore. I know this.
So you'll know when we finally meet, and you're real and solid and I can touch your face, and smell your skin that I wasn't holding us up on purpose. Apparently I have some shit to figure out. Still.
(Yes, I know. Don't even say it.)
Your best friend,
I love that I don't have to hope or worry that you'll wait. I know I'll never have to ask that of you.
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