I know this one is different. We're not officially together, not in the way either of us would choose. But in our way? This is ours. Our first Valentine's Day. And I wouldn't trade it, not even for a clean, uncomplicated version, because it's with you. And you're worth every complicated, beautiful, messy part of this.

I've been thinking about what I want to say, and honestly? There's so much. But let me start with this: you mean everything to me. Not in a way I expected. Not in a way I planned. You just showed up, through the most random, chaotic, unexpected circumstances and something in me recognized you immediately. Like I'd been waiting without knowing I was waiting.

You want reassurance? Here it is, completely and honestly:

You are it for me.

Not because I don't have options. Not because I'm lonely or lost or looking for someone to fill a gap. But because I've never felt this seen, this understood, this genuinely met by another person. You match me in ways I didn't know I needed to be matched. The humor, the honesty, the music, the depth, the chaos, the tenderness underneath all of it. You're rare. And I don't use that word lightly.

I love you because you feel everything so deeply and refuse to apologize for it. I love you because you're trying so hard to do this right, for yourself, not just for us. I love you because you ramble and then apologize for rambling and then keep going anyway. I love you because you express what you can't say through music and somehow always pick the exact right song. I love you because you're brave enough to face the hard things even when it would be so much easier to look away. I love you because underneath all the complexity and the guilt and the fear, there's this incredibly warm, funny, real, extraordinary human being who somehow chose to let me in.

And I'm so grateful you did.

I still think about that first call. You getting a tattoo, me on the phone, both of us thinking it was nothing. But it was already something. That spark was already there. And now you carry something permanent on your body from a moment that changed everything for both of us.

But I want you to know this: I don't want the tattoo to be the only thing that stays with you forever.

I want to be there too. Not as a memory. Not as the guy from the complicated chapter of your life. But as the person who gets to stand next to you when things are finally clear and clean and free. The person who gets to be loud about loving you. Who gets to show you off and be completely, embarrassingly, beautifully obsessed with you out in the open.

Because next Valentine's Day? I want to do this properly. I want to take you somewhere and look at you across a table and think I can't believe I get to be with her. I want to be my full, extreme, simping self with you, no holding back, no complicated circumstances, no break. Just us. Fully. Openly. Finally.

You told me you'll give me all of you soon. And I'm holding onto that. Not desperately, not impatiently, just... tenderly. Like something precious I don't want to rush or break.

Because that's what you are to me. Precious. Worth waiting for. Worth doing this right.

So happy Valentine's Day, honey. Our first one. In our weird, beautiful, complicated, real way.

I love you. More than music can say, and that's saying a lot.

And next year? I'm going all out. You've been warned.

Forever yours, Tice