I.

Oh, how I love her. I love her from her 3 freckles on her little nose, through her collarbones and her gentle fingers. I’ve known Iva for the past 7 years and I don’t think I’ll ever understand how such a physically small creature is able to contain her enormous heart full of love, candies and Swedish phrases.

I’ve written words for almost all those precious people to me but I find it the hardest to write for Iva. She’s so complicated that I need a mathematical formula, a bunch of physics guys and some Freud or Jung-kinda genius to help me decode her and even with them I’m not sure if we’d be able to figure her out. I’ve heard people say Iva makes the first impression of a cold-hard bitch with a nice ass (that one’s from me). And I think I understand them. When you first meet her, Iva is a little distant and is unlikely to start socializing instantly. She’s like a pretty Swedish blomma* (it means 'flower' in svenska, motherfuckers) which needs time to open up and blossom into a gorgeous bouquet of scents and colours. And when that happens it’s perfectly natural for a lot of boys to want to pluck her. Just kidding, not so much.

Iva is without a doubt the most hard-working, ambitious, stubborn, smart person I know. She’s sweet and amazing and has little brown eyes speaking of dreams, deep thoughts and just a hint of crazy. She doesn’t drink and doesn’t smoke which makes her the angel in our long-term relationship. She’s overemotional but she still succeeds to keep my head down on the ground when I start with my insane ideas and suggestions. She’s like a mother to me when she feeds me food and makes me tea when I’m sick or teaches me Svenska words. And I’d love it if she was my mother because she’s got so much love in herself that I wonder how she can get sad sometimes. I don’t like children but I’ll love Iva’s kids to death and secretly give them beer, soda and junk food. <3

I usually fuck up on a daily basis and my stories go from “I drank too much” to “I wanna peel my face off”. To be honest, through all these years I’ve made my peace with all the shit I do. But when it comes to me telling Iva what I’ve done... I literally go numb. I am so terribly scared to share with her my dark secrets because I am afraid that if she knew them, she’d be disappointed. I don’t think you can comprehend how strong and powerful this last statement is because I am basically immune to society’s opinions and I don’t strive to live up to anyone’s norms and morals. In a way it’s kind of encouraging that someone still has such high expectations of me.

And then I go to her and she looks at me and I get this lump in my throat and I all the words evaporate from my head. I have this constant fear that she’ll get mad at me for something. She is absolutely positively the only person alive who is able to make a shame-free person like me ashamed. I go to her and I can’t reveal my sins. Forgive me Father for I have sinned but She is my Jesus, my God, my messiah, my best friend, my mother, my reasonable part of being.

I don’t write things for her often so I’m gonna use the occasion for her 21^st birthday today to say a few things. 

I am not going to wish you a bunch of clichéd birthday wishes today. I just want you to do some things for me.

I want you to never ever again stop believing in yourself.

I want you to never stop smiling.

I want you to try to find all the little amazing things in life.

I want you to appreciate yourself.

I want you to not get angry.

I want you to be happy.

Because I’ve never stopped believing in you. I’ll always try to find a way to make you smile and give you little reasons for smiling. I will always love you and your future babies. I will take your anger away. I will forever remind you why you must pursue your happiness. And remember that no matter how far away or how drunk I am, I am here for you.

Happy birthday, precious girl! I love you way too much.

Unfaithfully yours, V.