To Jacob,

You have like the fucking prettiest eyes ever. It’s an understatement how much I love them, I don’t think I could ever put them into words or paragraphs. I love it when they’re in sunlight, when they turn into a hazel brown that makes my insides warm, or when we’re calling at night, and the bright phone light from your phone shines into my baby’s pretty, cute eyes. Most of all, I love it when you’re smiling, when the outsides of your eyes crinkle, especially when you look at me like you care too much about what I’m saying, with your head cocked to the side and a smile I’d like to wipe off despite how much I like it. The way you look at me when I talk is the same look I reference to when I talk about people in love, that they’re only in love if he looks at her the same way you look at me, that your eyes speak more than you ever will, the way they crinkle to the way they frown, the way they glimmer, especially the way they go down. Whatever way they become, they’re perfect, a face I could spend my whole life knowing.