I don't know whether anyone has ever loved you, and it would be uncharitable of me to assume. I know that it's been years, at the very least. I know that you don't think anyone should or ever will.
It feels like a great injustice that it's me who does now.
You deserve someone to ease your woes, to hold you close, to show you how brilliant they think you are. Someone to stroke your hair and kiss you gently on the collarbone; to bump shoulders with you on the sofa while watching shit TV; to listen when things are terrible, to get angry along with you, and to bring you breakfast in bed on the days when you can't get out. There's a part of my heart that wants to be that someone, because you're one of the best people I've ever known.
but I'm already with the single best person I've ever known, and my whole heart wants all of those things for them, too.
You haven't asked me to be your someone, and I'd say no if you did. I can't ever tell you just how wonderful I think you are, and I just wish that someone else would feel it instead.