You’re the one I want to be with. The one who dances at gas stations at one in the morning. The one who stands in driveways with me, a little too drunk, and only lets me take one drag off his cigarette because they’re not good for me. The one who gives me food when I pick him up. The one who sits on swings on the bluffs and tells me how his life really is. The one that tells me how he feels even though it’s fucking hard. The one who sits on my kitchen floor playing guitar. The one who talks to dogs and gets embarrassed when he remembers I'm listening. The one that reads books with me. The one that calls me to talk about what I ate for dinner. The one that sits with me in diner booths and takes pictures of me blushing. The one who loves my best friends as much as I do, even though he also understands their flaws. The one that tells me he’s proud of me for doing what I’m doing because it’s fucking hard. The one that tells me about his heroes and helps me learn why they’re important. The one who tells me about his dreams like they’re on the horizon and he expects me to be there. The one who texts me every day even when I’ve moved to a different city. The one who tells me his secrets, even though I know talking about how he feels is his biggest challenge. The one who listens to me when I'm confused and sad and makes me laugh instead. The one who will keep doing little, beautiful things so this list will never end…