the letter · to be read after the film, or instead of it, or forever
rabani,
thank you.
my bear,
i had finally built a life where i didnt need anyone. then you showed up, and made me realize how much i wanted you.
first, thank you. i dont say it enough, so here it is all at once:
thank you for helping a nervous stranger rehearse a best man speech before you knew a single thing about him.
thank you for being patient with my anxiety and for taking my low days without turning them into distance. not once, not as a favour, but every single time, like it was the most natural thing in the world. you never lectured me. you never made me feel broken. you just stayed, asked good questions, and offered kisses over text like medicine. "take a few deep breaths, try doing 1 thing at a time baby." you sent that on a random wednesday in march and took me from the worst mood of the month to laughing in under an hour. i am calmer than i have been in years and that is your doing.
thank you for the rabba versions. when something between us gets hard, you show up with a "chatgpt version" of what you want to say and a "rabba version", the messy one with the typos, and you trust me with both. p.s. the rabba version is my personal preference sweetheart <3
thank you for getting on planes. for phuket, for chennai, for goa. for walking into my family's home and fitting like you'd always been there. i feel personally blessed that everyone in my family accepted you with open arms and whole hearts. because you are truly a gem of a person.
thank you for the "i have a girlfriend" t-shirt. you demanded it the day you became my girlfriend, and then you actually went and delivered one. i know it was a joke. i wore it anyway. i'd wear it every day.
thank you for being nervous to see me even after months. for the sweaty palms in the first few minutes whenever we met after weeks apart.
thank you for all the snoring when you sleep next to me. you never sleep enough when im not there, and its such a blessing to see you relaxed and comfortable around me.
thank you for loving me in your native tongue: the bites, the dutch ovens, the punishment ledger of my crimes you texted me at 2:24 in the morning, dated and itemised, with per-offence billing, the pirate month, the burp i have on video. you show love the way i do, sideways and constantly, and being loved like that by you is the best thing i have.
and here is what i love about you, plainly, so it exists somewhere without a punchline attached.
i love your heart. it is the kindest one i have ever encountered and it never runs out. not for your family, not for your friends, not for your dog, not for me on my worst day. your name means divine and your favourite t-shirt says made of fluff and kindness, and both of those are just accurate labelling.
i love how you handle things breaking. you tore your own dress and said "dont worry, im a designer." you have done the same with harder things than a dress. you dont panic when something rips. you redesign it. i have learned more from watching you do that than from anything else this year.
i love your faces. the shy smile you cannot hold in. the finger on your lips when youve had a naughty thought. the one where you look up and around like an idiot. i have a full catalogue and i am still collecting.
i love how we fit. you hug like a bear, full grip, total commitment, and i bury your head in my neck and dont let you back up, and you complain from in there, muffled, and that is the safest either of us ever gets. i would stay like that indefinitely if the world allowed it.
i love that we are becoming each other. people tell me i talk like you now. the same tune in my voice, and i never even noticed it happening. and you walk around using my sayings like you invented them. good. keep them. take whatever you want, its all yours anyway.
i love that you are ridiculous and serious in the exact right proportions. that you can write a diary entry full of real fears and end it with "he's like totally so hot btw." that you became my girlfriend and forgot how to order fries in the same four hours.
and its unlikely that our honeymoon phase ever ends. somehow im more in love with you and more attracted to you today than i previously was. ive never stopped crushing on you since i met you.
humour and being annoying is my love language. its the best way i know how to express love. the evidence is in the archives: you told me i make you weak in the knees and i replied "good morning." you say i love you and sometimes get a thumbs up. i hide behind maine pucha. none of that is me failing to say it. that is me saying it. and the reason you get more of it than anyone else is that youve genuinely become my favourite person in the whole world. this letter is just me saying it the plain way for once.
and a promise: i will always tell you the truth. i will take your low days the way you take mine. and if anything between us ever rips, i will not panic. we'll redesign it. also: the moving-in jokes are not jokes to me. i want the same house, the same mornings, the confusing happiness, all of it. soon.
you asked your diary, five months ago, whether this would hurt you. i cant control what life does. but i can control what i do: you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, its not close, and every single day i wake up grateful and slightly confused about it. you make me weak in the knees too. permanently.
happy birthday, my banu bear. i love you. on purpose, out loud, in writing.
your panda, your personality hire,
sumer
🐼❤️🐻