I want to give you the stars, to reach up, and write your name in the heavens. I want to take the sky, take the clouds, and pull them down closer to us, so we can shape them ourselves. I want to pause the sunrise until you wake up, and show it to you at an appropriate time. I want to promise you the moon, I want to promise that I’ll love you there and back. But if you asked me to, I’d stay. I’d stay right here, by your side and never leave. If you asked me to, I’d stay, and love you. Here. Now. Forever. And be completely fine with watching the sunrise with tired eyes. Or watch clouds that have shaped themselves and smile at the stars out of reach, because you’re in my arms. I don’t need to write our names in the heavens, I just need to hear you whisper mine into prayers. I want to give you every fairytale told, every wish prayed for, every bit of magic left in this world. But all I have, all I can give you, is this life, a single dedicated life, and hope it’s enough.