God, I knew from the minute I laid eyes on you that I’d be falling in love with you.

Okay, maybe I didn’t. But I’m a romantic: maybe I want to play that aspect up a bit.

The truth, then? Alright. It took a while. I mean, I knew I liked you. Who wouldn’t? You’re witty, intelligent, not to mention absolutely beautiful. It would offend me to hear someone say you weren’t.

But yeah, eventually, I realized I was falling in love. You stayed with me through everything. You caught my tears both in laughter and despair. You let me hold you tight and never complained. You even listened to every little thing I had to say, and you, especially, know how I can rant.

Sometimes I get worried that I’m going to end up hurting you. I mean, you’re delicate. That’s not bad, not in the slightest. It’s just a fact. Sometimes I sit and stare at you, just making sure you’re okay. It’s all in my imagination though: you never look anything less than perfect, no matter how I turn my head, no matter how many times I blink my eyes.

Remember that time we went to that park together? You must have. The sky was so blue, and there was this mist everywhere that caught the sunlight and turned gold. I made a big deal about you staying dry. You ignored it, but don’t you remember how hard I laughed about it? Anyways. We sat together on a sandy bench next to the playground. The wood hurt my legs: I had to pull splinters for the longest time. You sat in my lap though, so I never complained to you. And we just sat there together, in the golden mist, and stared at each other for hours.

That was one of many our dates. We went everywhere together. I always liked having you at my side, because you make me better. You remind me of all the good things in life.

That’s love, isn’t it?

So maybe what I’m trying to say is that I want you with me forever. I’m never going to let you go. Throughout our time together, I have fallen irreversibly in love with you. No one better try to take you from me.

I wish I could have known that the first time I laid eyes on you, in that bookshop. I wish those were my very first words to you. Maybe that sounds a bit fast, but it’s the truth.

So just remember, that when I go back to that bookshop, without you, it doesn’t mean I love you less. I mean, I have to get the next one in the series from somewhere, don’t I?

And don’t be jealous of book two or three or four, or however many come after you. I love you just as equally as all the rest of your siblings.

Yes, you are a book. Does that mean I should love you any less?`