When I got sick from the thought of leaving her, my immune system gave me a nasty flu the day before I left NH to go back to IL in January of 2004. This was after I had been living with her for a month, and I dreaded going back to school and giving up the life I'd become so comfortable living with her. She laid me down, lit good smelling candles, and rubbed vapor rub on my chest until 2 in the morning, then lay down next to me to drift off to sleep, an arm comfortably resting across me.
She has held me more times than I can count, waiting to say goodbye, protecting me from other things which are out there. There are so many times when she has made sure I was safe - when it wasn't needed or when it was.
I can count on her calling me once a day, no matter what she's up to, just to say hi. Text messages, IRC conversations, random emails are all the norm.
A few days ago, that very special girl that has taken care of me so much over the past 27 months gained another day in age to push her over the limit into 24. We did nothing altogether special: a lunch together, and a dinner at the place we ate first on our first date: McDonalds. But we enjoyed them together, as we enjoyed every minute of the day.
Through thick and thin, through rich and poor, in sickness and in health, this person has taken care of me, and for a day, I did my best to let her relax and fulfill her every whim. I held her, but more than anything we just coexisted, in a way that I can no longer do with anyone else. It's not much, but it's a birthday present I can give.
Jessie, dear, I know this is late. I'm still not happy with it, but I know that you won't mind, because you never do. You just want to know how much I love you. And I love you more every day than the day before, and I hope I always will.
I love Jessica Allan. More than the internet. More than computers, more than the whole world. And you should all go buy her cookies, or something. Because it's her belated birthday, and she deserves it.