Your eyes have a certain sadness and softness that’s not sadness but really concern or intent to know. I love that about you.

People talk about true love and love at first sight. The first time I saw you you were on the balcony of my apartment looking out at the Denton skyline. You were wearing your dark blue and yellow baseball cap you wore until you lost it, a grey hoodie and jeans that you gave away to charity, and blue and yellow Skechers that lost their sole.

I had prepared for you: cleaned, showered. But you came sooner than expected. I hadn’t put on shoes when I opened the door — to find you there looking past the adjacent apartment buildings from the 3rd floor balcony. There was a pause to acknowledge a familiarity — a kindred spirit; when my soul and heart said hello to your soul and heart.

A bond we try to break every year to no avail.

You have changed across many years and I have changed, too. But your eyes are still the same.

If they should leave you one day, there will be your laugh, your crooked fingers, and gnome kisses.

Our friendship was built. Our love created the first word you sent and the first word I read.

All of this nestled in three words.