I won’t put your name as “boo,” “baby,” “him,” or “love <33” in my phone. I believe that seeing your name flash up on my phone 50+ times throughout the day is a lot more romantic than an overused term of endearment as sickly sounding as “boo.” I won’t watch romantic comedies with you. Frankly, I’ve always thought they were stupid, and since I’ve finally found my own romance, the fake ones on the big screen seem just that: fake; even more so than I once thought they were. I won’t want to wear matching couple shirts with you because I still want to seem like my own person, and not just someone affiliated with you. I won’t be an endorser of PDA, mainly because I still remember what it’s like to be around touchy couples, and I never liked that seeping feeling of loneliness mixed with awkwardness. I won’t call you babe or baby. The only people I’d ever call babe or baby are my actual biological children or my dog. And you’re not my dog, nor will I ever coddle and baby you. I won’t tag you on facebook statuses saying: “what a great day wit da hubby. xoxo.” More like, what a quick and easy way to demean our relationship.

What I will do is treat you like a human being; not someone to be shown off like a possession or an object. I will answer to your text four hours after you send it because although you’re on my mind, you’re not the only thing. I will write you your Christmas card on a post it note, because what else can I say that you don’t already know? Although philosophical studies deem you a figment of my imagination, I will believe in your existence. I will believe in you. I won’t be perfect and I won’t remember to text you first and I won’t kiss you all too much in public and I won’t look you in the eye for too long and I won’t put you before my studies and I won’t go out with you as much as you’d like me to.
But I will love you.