My Dearest, 

I did not think I could see a world so vibrant before that day. I had woke up at the same time as always after the same sleepless night. I had hurriedly showered and had chosen the same outfit as I had on the day before. When I ran to the bus stop with my laces hitting my ankles, I did not notice the flower petals changing hues right before my eyes. There had been nothing eventful, no siren blaring through the city, no parade at my door. But surely the world must have changed in my sleep. As I had laid for hours before with music making the world deaf to me, surely there must have warning bells. Perhaps as I lay my earbuds had formed a noose around my neck and I had died in my rest. I do not know these things, so I will not dwell upon them, but I know for certain that in the morning when I raised my head to yours, the world became far brighter, as though you had lassoed the sun and pulled it in close. When I saw you, I saw the whole world too. 

As I lay here, decades older than I was then, I am not so unreasonable as to believe in magic or luck, but perhaps you are the exception. I do not believe in soulmates, of people with imaginary strings, but perhaps despite that all, I can believe in you and me. You lay here with me on another one of my restless nights, your breathing keeping rhythm to imaginary music. The world has been many shades, the colour of the ocean, a shade of rage, but nothing has measured up to that day. We are older now, the world tinted like pages with words written long ago. I feel that today will be bluer than others, but as you rest deep in slumber I am reminded that they can never take away my favourite colour.  

Yours truly