Noya, you are my favorite kind of magic.

Dear Noya,

Happy Two years, to the one I love more than buldak. Two whole years of us being cute, being ridiculous, and finding increasingly specific things to get obsessed with together. Somehow, out of everyone on this planet, I found the person whose brain makes my brain go, “Oh, thank God. You get it.”

I love how autistic we are together. Two people, approximately twelve ongoing anime discussions, and absolutely no chance of being normal about our current favorite thing. Our conversations need episode numbers and a recap. I love that I can give you the full, uncut director’s commentary of whatever is happening in my head. With you, I don’t have to perform being someone else. I just get to be me, next to you being you.

I love loving Kaiju No. 8 with you. If I turned into a kaiju, I hope you would still love me. You would definitely tell me to stop destroying things and do what you asked me to do first. Fair.

Then there’s Black Clover. I understand the Mereoleona obsession: terrifying, incredible, and absolutely not someone you want disappointed in you. A familiar energy when I say, “Wait, you asked me to do that?” Meanwhile, I’m trying to channel Asta’s determination, ideally at a volume our future neighbors can survive. My love for you has no intention of giving up.

And Bleach, because apparently one anime universe was not enough for our household. I wish I could yell “Bankai!” and unlock the ability to remember every task immediately. Unfortunately, my current special ability is walking into a room and forgetting why. The training arc continues. You deserve actual effort, though, not an anime reference in place of getting things done.

I know you get mad when I forget stuff. Underneath my jokes, I understand that it’s frustrating, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to manage everything or keep reminding me. I want to listen better, write things down, and follow through. Loving you should show up in the ordinary little things, too. Especially the ones I said I would do.

Some of my favorite plans with you are barely plans at all: sit together, put on one of those stupid Korean cooking shows we love, and become emotionally invested in someone else’s dinner. Nothing says romance like watching intense editing make a saucepan feel like the final boss. I wouldn’t trade those ridiculous evenings with you for some perfectly staged idea of a relationship.

I want to go back to Japan with you. I want the excitement of being there together again, the food, the wandering, and the completely serious financial discussions about whether we really need another anime thing. Obviously we do. I want more memories with you that we’ll bring up years later and immediately start smiling about.

And I want our two cats, Asta and Yuno. Main-character names, absolutely no chance of a peaceful household. I expect Asta to announce every opinion and Yuno to silently judge us. Knowing cats, they’ll swap personalities just to humble us.

More than any trip or future plan, I want the everyday life around it all. You beside me. Our shows. Our jokes. Two cats acting like they pay rent. Me remembering the thing without a reminder. You feeling loved, not just hearing that you are. A home where we can both relax and be our very specific, very ridiculous selves.

Happy anniversary, Noya. Thank you for these two years and for all the ways you make my life happier. I love your fire, your humor, your enthusiasm, and the person you are when nobody needs anything from you. There is so much more I want to share with you. And out of every possible person to watch anime, judge cooking shows, and dream about Japan with, I would choose you again.

Always yours.
Your future co-parent to Asta and Yuno ♥

and ofc now we add the actual real note