"You are a miracle. You make my throat tight. So tight that I can’t breathe. The odd part about this is that it’s out of happiness; complete and utter happiness. I was lucky enough to find someone to once again show me that there are still people on this god forsaken planet that are capable of planting flowers in your stomach; that are capable of showing you that good people do exist. I was lucky enough to find you. You radiate warmth. Warmth that once it hits me crawls down my arms and hides under my fingernails. That attaches to my bones and thrives inside of me as a part of me. You are a part of me. You are something that hides in the long-abandoned, dark corners of me, but also in the thriving vine-like veins that course through my body. You’ve seen parts of me that are as dark, unpredictable, and unexplored as the endless space that contains unimaginable amounts of stars and planets that surrounds us, and you’ve seen parts of me where flowers sprout from my veins and from my ribcage and wrap around my bones. I take my first statement back, you are not a miracle. In fact, calling you a miracle is an understatement; you’re a blessing."