Do you know that I love your dimples? Do you even know that you have them? I love your freckled skin, your floppy hair that won't stay out of your eyes. They change color sometimes. When you're serious, they're a deep brown color, like rich milk chocolate. When you're excited about something they flare a bright forest green. Have you noticed how jittery you get when there's something on your mind? Did you know that when you play video games you cock your head to the left like a curious child? It's so annoying that you chew with your mouth open, but I miss it right now. I can't help but notice how your heart beats faster when I'm laying with my head on your chest. You talk in your sleep, murmuring incomprehensible secrets. Sometimes I study your sleeping face. There have been nights when you look worried even when you're sleeping. Most of the time, you look relaxed, like you've found some kind of joy in dreamland. I'd say that I'd like to know your dreams, but sometimes dreams are the only things we have to ourselves. So instead I sit with the knowledge that you'll tell me if you want to. I wonder often if I pass by in your dreams. I like to think that I do. You frequent mine. I dream of little things, like reading books under a big oak tree in the park. I dream of having dinner ready for you when you get home. I dream of sleeping in your arms, even as I lay in them. I dream often of a possible future we could have together. Most of the time, though, I dream that I tell you I love you.