Merry Christmas, Nick

My lovely nautilus,

There’s a quiet kind of magic in being loved well. Not loudly, not performatively, not in ways meant for an audience, but in the steady way that reaches for me and cares for me when no one is watching. This year, more than ever, you've given me the greatest gift of all; with you, I don’t just feel loved. I feel known.

You have a way of paying attention that still catches me off guard. You remember things I said in passing months ago. You remember every single one of the fears that I've confided in you; not just like I'm something to fix, but like every crack is a piece of me you want to protect. Recently, you've been making a massive effort for every version of me, even though I've been erratic, difficult, and pouty. I've noticed your patience and your care. Because of it, I feel safe, like I can exist fully, and you can see that in how open I've been with my actions lately.

Your love is gentle. It's in the little details of what you do for me, the small acts of remembrance and consideration. I notice everything, and I feel guilty for not properly acknowledging it all the time, but I promise you I notice it all.

You are, in the most cliché sense, my home, but you’re also my favorite person. I love every bit of you, and I wish you knew just a fraction of it. You’re clever and whimsical and relentlessly funny, and you have this presence that fills a room even when you’re not trying. I love how gentle with me you are despite your guarded exterior. I love how prideful you are, how stubborn you are, how smart and curious and creative. I love sending you texts and kicking my feet in anticipation of a reply like a high schooler in love. I love hearing your opinions on asinine internet drama. I love hearing your creativity, your ambitions, and your fixations. Your traits all put together make you catnip to me, and I hope I can spend many more Christmases enjoying that for myself.

I'm endlessly grateful to have met you. Today on Christmas, time with you is enough, because you yourself are a walking gift to me. I hope you never lose your spark, your fire. I love you now and always; happy holidays, my sea conch.

Lovingly,

Susie