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Everything I know about you, written down so I never forget it — the small rules, the loud opinions, the flowers you like and the ones you don't. This one's yours, Sienna.
My parents took me to a New Year's Eve gathering at my mother's friend's house. The moment we arrived, every adult in the room, including my mother, drifted out to the balcony and left me alone in the kitchen with a beautiful, shy girl I barely knew. To fill the silence, I picked up my guitar and played.
She didn't say much at first. But when I finished, she told me I was good, that she'd had fun listening. At some point she warned me that if her dog attacked, I should scream. So when it did, I did. When the adults finally came back in for dinner, I sat down without thinking — and took her seat at the table. She brought it up months later, furious about it, only half joking.
After dinner the adults left us again, and this time we actually talked — nothing too deep, just enough to connect. I helped her with her computer, then with Minecraft, and somewhere in there I realized she wasn't just shy and beautiful. She was kind, and sharp, and funny, and she had a laugh that was impossible not to catch.
Later we played Monopoly. She teamed up with me, cheekily admitting her whole strategy was picking someone to share the loss with, because she knew she was a terrible liar and worse at cheating. We were mid-game when the countdown to midnight started. In the last few seconds I wished, quietly, that I could kiss her. I got a hug instead. It was more than enough.
We kept playing Monopoly into the early hours of the new year. When it was finally time to go, we said goodbye with one more hug. It wasn't like the others.
It felt like my heart being put back into place — and the second it ended, it got ripped right back out. That was the hug I fell in love with. That was the hug that started this whole story.
Runs on coffee. Tiramisu counts as a food group because it's coffee-adjacent. This is not up for debate.
A little clumsy. Which is exactly why the sharp-corner rule exists. I'm not being dramatic, I'm being prepared.
Prettiest when she doesn't know I'm looking. So I keep the camera close and the shutter quiet.
Not written for anyone to check. Just things I do without thinking twice.
If she bends down near a table edge or a corner, my hand gets there first.
Skirt or dress, I stand close behind her on the way up.
I open it. Every time.
I walk on the side closest to the road.
I never raise it at her. Not once.
I agree with her in public. We talk it through in private.
Just us, I sit across from her. With friends, I sit beside her.
We pick a place we both want, or somewhere new we're both curious about. Never one-sided.
A squeeze, when something happens and words aren't fast enough.
Random reminders through the day that she's doing great.
Shopping bags, school bag, that art bag that's always somehow heavier than it looks — I carry it.
No Red Bull. No Mercedes. Everyone else can fight it out below.
Twenty-one questions, three years seven months and four days in. Some of it I already knew. Some of it I didn't.
What she loved immediately was how open and confident I am. What took longer to love was the overconfidence that comes with it.
She's glad she isn't who she was three years ago. And somewhere in these three and a half years, she became more self-sufficient — she says it's because of me.
Early on, she was scared she might just be a rebound. She isn't, and hasn't been in a long time. The fear that's still there, smaller now but real, is that I'll wake up one day and leave. I won't.
If she could live one day of ours again exactly as it happened, she'd pick Birgu — before we were even official, when I still needed her to lead the way. She says it's the only day she remembers me up and out of the house by eight in the morning. These days I pull up the map myself.
She forgave me for smoking, the first time, before we'd even really talked it through. I don't smoke anymore.
I used to think I was the one in this who didn't need fixing. Being with her taught me otherwise. She keeps me in check now, gently, and I let her.
(She's also noticed I'm far too easily influenced by movies. She's not wrong.)
Things I've actually sent her, mostly untouched — cleaned up only where 5am typing got the better of grammar.
I didn't fall in love with you because I thought of you as a replacement, or because I needed you, or because I needed someone to hold, or because I needed you to make me feel loved. I fell in love with you because the moment I met you, everything stopped. You were the only thing still moving, and I felt my heart sink and flood, all at once.
hey mija, i couldn't sleep but i'm gonna try again after sending this to you. i just want you to know i love you so much, and i know you're going through a lot, and maybe you don't always feel like talking about it, but i can feel it in the little ways. i just want you to know i see you, i'm here, and i'm not going anywhere.
i've been laying here just thinking about you, about us, about the way i look at you and still feel lucky every single time — even on the hard days, even in the silence, you still feel like home to me. i know things don't feel easy right now and some days it's hard just to breathe, but you don't have to go through it alone. i gotchu, baby.
even when you feel like you don't get yourself, i know your heart. i know how much you hold in and how strong you try to be for everyone around you, and i just want to hold you through it. i don't need you to be perfect, i don't need you to have it all together — i just want the real, tired, quiet you. the raw and honest you. cuz that's the version of you i fell in love with.
you don't have to fake a smile with me. you can break down if you need to and i'll still be right here, as promised, loving you through it all. i'll always try to be your peace when things feel too loud. i'll always be your calm when the weight gets too heavy.
i just wish i could take all the pain off your shoulders and carry it for a while, just to give you a break. but since i can't, i'll stay close and love you even harder through every little piece of it — even when we don't say much, even when we're just laying in the dark together saying nothing. i hope you feel that love wrapped around you like a blanket, even when i'm not there physically. and you'll always have my heart around your neck. that's not just a necklace, that's a piece of me with you, always.
i know i'm in croatia right now, but i'll be back in three days, and i can't wait to hold you again — to look you in the eyes and remind you, with no words, just my presence, that you're everything to me. i've never been so sure of anything the way i'm sure about you, mija. and i'll keep showing up for you in every way i can, not just on the good days, but especially on the hard ones. you're not alone, and you never will be.
i'm so proud of you, even when you don't feel proud of yourself. i see the fight in you, i see the heart in you, and i'll never stop reminding you how much you mean to me.
i'm gonna try to sleep now — it's almost 5, i've made it. but i couldn't close my eyes without sending this first. i love you, my little wolf, more than words, more than anything, and more than you. always.
Hey baby, I just wanted to start this off by saying that… I'm in love with you. Now, I think you already know this to a certain extent, but I still can't explain the full amount of love I have for you — I'm starting to think it's infinite.
I just wanted to list some things I'm extremely grateful for. Thank you for letting me express myself. Thank you for becoming something I can't live without. Thank you for showing me the world of F1, and for giving us yet another thing we can constantly talk about. Thank you for giving me my first healthy relationship — one I will cherish with all of my being, and protect with all of me. I could keep going and make a whole book series out of it.
We've been together eight months now, and what's funny is I still fall in love with you deeper every day. I still zone out and get lost in your eyes. I still feel like I have the best world, even when everything around us feels like it's falling apart, as long as I'm in your arms.
You have a magic spell on me, baby, and it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm in love with you, my little wolf. Happy eight months, princess.
Sienna, my one and only, my little wolf —
Today marks a significant milestone in our journey together as we celebrate seven months. It's astounding to think about all the moments, big and small, that have woven our lives together in this short but incredibly meaningful time. Every day with you has been the biggest gift, and I find myself falling deeper in love with you with each passing moment — in ways I didn't even know were possible.
In these seven months, you've not just been my girlfriend, you've been my partner in crime, my rock in times of uncertainty, my lightning rod, and the love that makes my world so much more bearable. You've shown me the beauty of vulnerability, even though I'm still scared to be vulnerable — your complete support has given me the courage to be the vulnerable version of myself. I am profoundly grateful for the love, laughter, and countless cherished memories we've shared.
Your smile — my god, your smile — it's the beacon that guides me through life's storms, and your laughter is the sweetest melody to my ears. The way you care, the way you understand, the way you love me, is beyond anything I ever imagined. I cherish the way your hand fits perfectly into mine, as if it was always meant to be there. And your eyes — I've said it before and I'll keep saying it — I get lost in them like decades. Such beautiful decades.
Through seven months of adventures and challenges, we've grown stronger, and our bond has deepened into something unbreakable. I want you to know that I love you more with each passing day, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for us. Our story is just beginning, and I'm excited to keep writing it with you, page by page, chapter by chapter.
So on this special day, our seven months, I want to remind you that my love for you has no bounds — stronger than anything imaginable on earth or in the universe. Here's to the countless tomorrows we'll share, to more adventures, laughter, and every beautiful moment still waiting for us. Happy anniversary, my love. Thank you for being the best part of my life. Thank you for being there. Thank you for being you.
I'm in love with you, Sienna — my one and only, my little lady, my princess. I'm in love with every single part of you.
I love you so much because you're mine, and I've never felt anything this real before. You make everything feel lighter but deeper at the same time, and I can't get you out of my head or my chest. When I'm near you, it's like everything in me says stay, don't leave, don't let go.
Not a memory yet. Just the one I keep telling you, a little further each time.
It's our second wedding anniversary. Every year we take a week-long trip to renew our honeymoon, and this one is different — by the end of it, my wife tells me she's pregnant. I ask to see proof, because she's been teasing me about this for years and I don't fully believe it. She shows me the test. I can't speak.
Four months later we go for the ultrasound and ask the doctor not to tell us the gender. I hand the sealed envelope straight to my kum, no peeking, and tell him to surprise us. He does. At the reveal party, we cut into the cake and yellow jam comes pouring out. "What is this?" I ask him. He just laughs and shouts "look up" — hundreds of pink and blue balloons pop above us, blue confetti falls by the thousands, and somebody screams it's a boy. We name him Oliver.
Eight months in now. The hospital bag is packed and by the door. I'm fairly sure that the second her water breaks, she's going to try to do her makeup before we leave, and I'm going to have to physically drag her to the car so we make it in time. Right next to the bag: the number for the sushi place, already saved, ready to order the second Oliver's here. That part of the plan was never up for discussion. read the whole doctrine →
This story is still happening. To be continued.
You're clumsy near table corners and brave everywhere else. You'll fight anyone who's unkind to an animal and lose an argument with a banana. You've never once liked jazz and I've never once minded.
So here's your file: orchids, not chocolate. Coffee, always. Rain, for dancing. Every rule above, kept on purpose — because you're worth being careful with.