I am twenty two years old, and she messages me, “I really want to kiss you.” She is about to turn twenty two, and we spend hours on phone before the clock strikes midnight and she tells me, “Happy Birthday” and she calls me “baby” when she wishes me.

It is one in the morning and I have decided that I don’t want anyone else to call me “baby” except for her.

There are over so many miles between us, but she closes the gap and I find myself in her arms for the first time. I’m shaking all over as she was sleeping on my lap, I stroke a hair strand from her beautiful face and I whisper to her, “don’t let go” and she whispers back, “I won’t.”

Three days later, she lets go – she had to and I feel so alone but my heart feels so full.

Thank god for technology because even though we can’t be together as often as we’d like, not a day goes by where she isn’t with me – where I don’t hear her voice or see her beautiful face pixelated on my screen or read her texts or screenshot her snapchats.

She just turn twenty two and we stand together as I gave her, her birthday gift. Her lips are soft, when she kisses me and I still feel lightheaded, even though she’s been kissing me for ten months now.

I am twenty three years old, and she squeezes my hand as I blow out my birthday candles. I look at her smile because my wish had already came true the moment I picked her up.

The clock strikes 12 a.m on the twelfth month that we have been together. I turn to her, as we lie on the bed, and for once, it isn’t just the same sky we are under, but the same roof. I curl into her side and feel her warmth, I kiss her forehead just because I can. Just because she is there.

Three hundred and sixty six days have gone by and no one else has called me baby except for her and no one else will.

~ Siddhant


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