There is something about the way you say yes to me that I cannot quite explain without sounding like I’m describing something sacred, because I think it is. not the yes of someone who has forgotten herself, not the hollow compliance of a person who has traded their spine for approval. you are too whole for that, too present, too entirely yourself in every room you walk into. and even with me, and that is exactly what makes it so disarming when you look at me and just say, ok. yes chief.

It is not obedience. it is something much rarer. it is a person who knows her own mind choosing, freely and with full awareness, to meet me where I am. to trust the drafts I’m drawing. the plans I’m putting, to say, I see what you’re building and I’m in. you could push back, and say I don’t like this, and sometimes you do, and I love that too, I love that you would tell me if something didn’t sit right with you, that you are not performing agreement to keep the peace. but when there is nothing to resist, when the plan feels right and the moment is easy, you just fold into it with this effortless grace that makes me want to build better plans just to deserve that yes.

I wouldn’t trade your personality for anything. not a single sharp edge of it, not the opinions or the fire or the particular way you see the world. you are not here to orbit me. but god, when you choose to move with me, when you cooperate not out of habit but out of love, when you say yes chief with that tone that carries warmth inside it like something lit from within. I feel like the luckiest person alive. I love you when you say it. when you say yes.