It’s way too early in the morning and I’ve left you sleeping in our bed. Yesterday, our anniversary, was lovely and I can’t even find it in me to feel bad about ignoring my work.

Because we walked in the park yesterday. I looked over at you and I couldn’t stop staring.

Did you know I fell in love with your smile first, when I saw you across the coffeeshop, so excited and bright? But the first time we kissed, on that street corner in the rain, it was your eyes that sunk into me, grabbed my heart and refused to let go.

It was your eyes that look like constellations, three layers of color, hazel at the pupil, a wide band of pale green, growing darker until it’s a deep blue at the edge.

If I ever needed proof that we are all made of star stuff, that all the atoms in the universe just keep rearranging to make us, that was it. In your eyes I see the earth and all the stars, I see the stretch and flow of history, so deep and nuanced and complex.

You walked beside me and I stared. You are my rock, the ground I stand on. You are the air I breathe, you are the water that creates and sustains life.

You are an incredible treasure, a miracle, beautiful beyond belief.

Please stay, always. Please don’t ever give up. Our fate was written in the stars.

Maybe, somewhere, in one of those constellations, there’s a different universe where all of this is easier.

But I don’t think there’s a single universe where I’m not in love with you, where the constellations don’t tell our destiny, where your eyes aren’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.