Gift giving.

I met you online.

We talked for weeks. Texts and DMs, I'm not a phone kind of girl.

But for you I was.

I showed you my face, you showed me yours.

Truly, it was love at first sight. At least on my part.

Probably for you too, I'm quite cute.

We speak of our hopes and dreams. Our future goals and wishes.

It's easier to speak to you, so far away. No real or immediate threat of intimacy.

I'm wary of how open I am with you. I'm not versed in romantic dalliances.

Relationships, I don't know that I keep them well.

How would we be in person, proximate? That weighs on me.

We've done the watch party dates, we're mutual on all our socials.

You know me, but you don't.

I don't know how you did it, but you did.

Maybe you reached my roommate and plotted? Some hidden scheme?

Does she see my smile? How happy I am just to share words with your essence?

I think I've fallen in love.

Because you went and did it. I never thought anyone would.

I came home and there it was. The Valentine's Day gift package to shame all others.

You'd be working so we wouldn't videochat until the next day, you'd relayed in the velveteen card that came with it.

The detail, the specificity. Am I deserving of this attention? This care?

One Ficus elastica, burgundy.

A Snow Queen pothos.

Some pellionia I didn't recognize. Some peperomia I didn't recognize.

Three bags of a quality-looking potting soil and some ceramic pot that was thematically appropriate for the holiday.

Lastly a bar of chocolate.

How is it you know me, already, and from a distance, so well?

I don't think, I know.

I love you.