Extra Credit

Holy forking shirtballs, I had no idea, none at all, how much of a turn on ambition was for me, until I saw it in you.

And there you go, yet again, checking off a box I didn't even know that I had.

They tell me you can't actually be perfect for me. They say there has to be some flaw, something that will turn me off, some fly in the ointment, something to disappoint me. I can't even begin to fathom what it might be, but who knows? Maybe you won't appreciate the Humpty nose tickling your rear or something.

Whatever. It doesn't even matter. Because you have extra credit.

Right at this very moment, you're carrying a 5.0 GPA, my love, my honors graduate. My summa cum laude.

Will I eventually find imperfections? Surely, society tells me I must. But they will be perfect imperfections. And I will love you all the more for them. And you'll still have more than 💯%.

But something tells me you're not one for leaving points on the table. I've just got this feeling that you're going to ace every exam, complete every last bit of homework. Earn all of the extra credit. Somehow manage to find even more little rooms in my heart that nobody else has ever discovered before, rooms I don't even know exists yet.

I can't wait to see what else you find in there, what new boxes to check you stumble upon, what other extra credit you're going to earn.

Yours in adoration.