Happy birthday, Rara!

It started because you thought I was cute

Which is still one of my favourite things about our story.

You saw me, thought I was cute, and just... texted me. Completely randomly. You had no real reason to, and absolutely no way of knowing what would come from it.

I love thinking about that sometimes. How such a tiny decision from you ended up changing so much for me.

So thank you for shooting your shot, Rara. Genuinely one of your better decisions.

We really had no reason to get this close

We didn't go to the same university. We didn't have the same friends. We weren't even in the same age bracket. There was nothing naturally keeping us in each other's lives.

And yet, once we actually started talking, it became so easy so quickly.

Suddenly I wanted to tell you things. I wanted to know what you thought. I wanted to hear about your day. And without either of us really noticing it happen, talking to you just became part of mine.

We both swore it wasn't serious

This was supposed to be fun.

I wasn't looking for a relationship, you were waiting for your visa and getting ready to leave for Prague, and neither of us had any reason to turn this into something serious.

So obviously, being us, we got ridiculously close instead.

I don't know exactly when "this is just a fun little thing" stopped being true. I think we probably kept saying it for a while after neither of us believed it anymore.

Then Prague didn't happen

I know how badly you wanted it. I remember how crushed you were when the visa got rejected, and I hated that there was nothing I could say that would make it hurt less.

So I just tried to be there.

More calls, more time together, more of me slowly realising that somewhere along the way you had become a lot more important to me than I was willing to admit.

I'm still sorry you didn't get the life you imagined in Prague. I really am. I just hope the life we build together one day can be even better than the one you thought you were losing.

Our first date was frozen yogurt

Which feels very us somehow.

Nothing extravagant. Just froyo, you and me, and the beginning of something neither of us knew was going to matter this much.

Then came trying food places, coffees, movies, car rides, and all the little plans that were never really about what we were doing anyway. I just wanted to see you.

I still do.

Our rooftop

I don't even know how many times we've been up there now.

Sunsets, the view, sitting around talking about absolutely everything and absolutely nothing, staying longer than we planned to. Somewhere along the way, the Phase 4 rooftop just became our place.

There are nicer places in the city. There are probably better views too.

I don't care. None of them have you sitting next to me.

The flight where I finally said it

You'd been telling me you loved me for a while.

And I know I was incredibly annoying about not saying it back. It wasn't because I didn't feel it. I think, if anything, I was scared of admitting just how much I did.

Then I was sitting on a flight to Islamabad, waiting for takeoff, thinking about you. And for whatever reason, in that moment it felt stupid to keep holding it back.

So right before I had to put my phone away, I finally told you I loved you too.

Your reaction was exactly as insane as I expected it to be.

And I remember sitting there after, about to take off, smiling like an idiot because I'd finally said out loud what had already been true for a while.

We haven't always been easy

I don't want to pretend our relationship has been perfect just because this is your birthday.

We've hurt each other. We've had horrible conversations. We've had moments where it genuinely felt like we might lose this completely.

But we didn't.

And I think there's something really special about knowing the worst parts of us too, and still finding our way back to each other.

I don't love you because we've had some perfect fairytale relationship. I love you knowing exactly how hard it has been sometimes, and knowing I still want this. I still want you.

And then there's my stupid job

You probably deserve an award for dating a consultant.

There have been months where work has taken almost all of me. Fourteen-hour days, fifteen-hour days, and those ridiculous project weeks where somehow it got even worse.

And still, every day, there you are.

Waiting for me. Asking when I'll be free. Getting genuinely excited over a call that sometimes lasts ten minutes because I'm half asleep and can barely form a sentence.

I know I don't give you anywhere near the amount of time you deserve. And somehow you've never made me feel like loving me is a burden.

I notice that, Rara. More than I probably tell you. And I will never stop being grateful for it.

You're just... everywhere now

You're on my calls. You're on video while I'm doing something else. You're watching movies with me and the boys like you've always belonged there.

You're the person I call when something good happens because I want to tell you. You're the person I call when something goes wrong because I need you.

I ask what you think about everything. I want your opinion before I make decisions. You've somehow worked your way into my friends, my routines, my plans, my problems, my good news, my bad days — basically every corner of my life.

And I love that you have.

You love me in all the little ways

There are things you do for me that I don't think you even realise I notice.

The way you worry about me. The way you track every single one of my flights. The way you're somehow excited to see me even when we spoke a few hours ago. The way you listen when I need advice and somehow know when I don't want advice at all.

You take care of me in ways I didn't know I needed before you.

I've been loved before. But I've never been loved quite like this.

And now, somehow, it's almost been two years

It's funny thinking about what this was supposed to be.

Something small. Something fun. No expectations, no big plans, definitely no forever.

And now when something happens, you're the first person I want to tell. When I picture where my life is going, you're already there. When I think about home, somehow that means you too.

I don't know the exact day you became my person. I think you just did, slowly, in a thousand tiny ways.

I want to marry you, Rara.

I want more rooftops and coffees and stupid arguments and movies with the boys. I want to complain about work to you and have you track another hundred flights. I want ordinary Tuesdays with you. I want birthdays when we're older and laughing about how ridiculous we were when we first met.

I don't just want the big future things with you. I want all the boring little days in between them too.