You. I asked you for something to write about. A topic. Because I am tired and not really thinking straight and generally lacking in things to write about. So you told me to write about happy things. And I asked you for anything more specific. To which you responded that I should just write about something that makes me happy. My instant answer to that was "you."
You make me happier than anything else. It's that simple. The prospect of seeing you makes me smile. Feeling your arms around me is the best part of every day because I'm only worried about you, about what is right there before me. I feel comfortable and safe in your arms. Simply put, you make me as happy as anything else.
And this here, this is letting you know that. Because I don't think you really understand just how much you mean to me sometimes. I love you very, very much and you make me very, very happy. I'm sorry that I don't show that as much as I should and that I get tired and obnoxious and say some things or don't say others. I hope you know I mean well and don't want to hurt you because you mean everything to me.
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