Example 1: To her boyfriend, romantic, about one page
401 words
My dearest D,
Two years. I keep saying it out loud to see if it sounds real, and it does.
I think about that backyard barbecue in Austin a lot. You were in charge of the grill. You burned every single veggie burger. Then you made me a grilled cheese on the side burner to say sorry. I didn't know it yet, but I was already in trouble.
I knew for sure a few months later. My car died on the highway at 11 p.m. and you showed up in pajama pants, with jumper cables and a thermos of hot chocolate. You didn't make me feel stupid or scared. You just made it better. That's what you do.
You're the steadiest person I know. When I spiral about work, you never rush to fix me. You just ask, "Do you want advice or a taco?" Somehow that question always calms me down. Most of the time, it's the taco. You never mind.
You're loyal in a way that is quiet and constant. You still drive your little brother to every Saturday soccer game. And when my dad had heart surgery last spring, you took three days off work and sat in that waiting room with my mom so I could go home and sleep. I will never forget that. I couldn't have asked you for it, and you gave it anyway.
I love the small things, too. The photo you text me of every dog you pass on your run. The way you warm up my side of the car on cold mornings. The way you sing every word of Selena in the shower, even the ones you get wrong.
I want to keep forever the night we lay on the hood of the car at Big Bend, with a flat tire and no hurry, watching the stars for two hours. And the night my grandmother made you dance a cumbia in her kitchen. You did it badly, but with total commitment. She adored you for it. So do I.
Now we're moving in together this winter. I can't wait to argue with you about where the couch goes. I can't wait for Sunday breakfast tacos, and for finally taking that Mexico City trip we keep planning.
Thank you for two years of hot chocolate, patience, and terrible dancing. I'd happily take the next ones the same way.
Yours, always,
Hannah
What the writer told Toastful to get this letter
- Writer
- Hannah, to my boyfriend
- How Met
- We met at a friend's backyard barbecue in Austin two summers ago. Diego was in charge of the grill, burned every veggie burger, and made me a grilled cheese on the side burner as an apology. I knew a few months later when my car died on the highway at 11 p.m. and he showed up in pajama pants with jumper cables and a thermos of hot chocolate.
- What You Love
- He's steady. When I spiral about work, he doesn't try to fix it; he just asks, 'Do you want advice or a taco?' He's also the most loyal person I know. He still drives his little brother to every Saturday soccer game.
- Little Things
- He texts me a photo of every dog he passes on his run. He warms up my side of the car on cold mornings. He sings along to Selena in the shower, every word, including the ones he gets wrong.
- Memories
- Our road trip to Big Bend, when we got a flat tire on a back road and ended up lying on the hood of the car watching the stars for two hours while we waited for help. And the night he met my grandmother and she made him dance a cumbia in her kitchen, and he did it badly but with total commitment.
- Support
- When my dad had heart surgery last spring, Diego took three days off work and sat in the hospital waiting room with my mom so I could go home and sleep.
- Looking ahead
- We're moving in together this winter. I'm looking forward to arguing about where the couch goes, breakfast tacos on Sunday mornings, and finally taking the Mexico City trip we keep planning.
- Extras
- I call him D. Inside joke: 'advice or a taco?' Sign off: 'Yours, always, Hannah.'