My love, I’m sorry. and I promise, you will not go through that again. I love you. I’ve missed you, not in the ordinary way, but in the way you miss a version of yourself. I missed us, the version that was just in love, uncomplicated, unafraid.no doubt whispering to. So I need you to do something for me. Put your hand on your chest, right now, and tell your heart, one last time, forgive him. He is Ahmed. Our Ahmed. The one we chose. The one we love. He is not the stranger fear tried to convince you he was yesterday. And you, my darling? You are no fool for almost slipping, love makes us brave, and sometimes brave looks like scared. I need you to know something else, and I need you to actually believe it this time: you could never annoy me. Not once. Not ever. I have told you this before. You are allowed to get mad, to get upset, to feel everything you suppose to feel, to unravel a little, a million times over, and I will still be here, still loving you more, still trying to build us better. You’ve used one before. and anoother today today, That leaves 999,998. (Spoiler: they refill every time you say “I love you.” But I’m keeping that secret because I have some dignity left and I’d rather not spend this letter looking like a complete clown. Too late, probably.) All my love — Ahmed