It’s her eyes. Her lips. Her nose. Her ears. Her hair. Her voice. The way she wakes up in the morning. How she looks at me when I tell her I love her. The way she looks at me when we sit in silence and admire each other. It’s the way she sits. The way she sleeps. The way she laughs at my dumb jokes. The way she looks at me when I buy her coffee. The way she stares into space lost in thought. It’s how I can tell her anything, and trust her. It’s what I have in common with her. It’s how she makes me feel. It’s how I feel at peace with myself around her. It’s her. I found, “her.”