Dear Paul,

You are, without a doubt, one of the greatest loves of my life. And how lucky am I that you love me too.

My therapist said that love is a noun, a verb, and a conversation.

Love is making a pact to do our thesis together at freshman year and sticking to it despite delays, probations, and expulsion scares.

Love is having rather sober conversations despite the hours of drinking while everyone else were asleep during sleepovers.

Love is calling each other randomly — drunk or in tears or both — knowing that the other would answer (or call back immediately) and that the call would end in laughter and reminders of “I love you”.

Love is screaming out Mr. Brightside.

For some reason, this song has always made an appearance when we’re together. And we’re talking about coincidental car radio appearance not selected from a playlist and intentionally played.

Singing the lyrics at 4am after pulling an all-nighter working on our thesis.

Yelling it out as we sped through the quiet city as you drove me home for the last time in years after our despedida party for you.

Thinking about it now, it really speaks a lot about how you and I are going through this life and navigating the cards we are dealt with. Perpetual optimists, we are, waaaaay deep inside.

And now, 20 years later, each of us living our own lives yet still connected, heading down paths we never expected back when we were having our philosophical discussions during late-night drives,

But it’s just a price I pay, destiny is calling me, open up my eager eyes

So, Teepee. My gentleman of (dis)honor. The daddy issues to my self-saboteur. The pesonal life to my professional life. One of the greatest friends a girl could have. I hope you’re spending today happy, drunk, and getting pampered by your beloved.

Happy birthday!

Thoughts?