Eclectic adjective - The Clash, Eric Clapton, Paul Simon. I sift through more pieces of colourful envelopes that house these powerhouses in musical history, leafing past some names I don't recognise, making a mental note to ask you about them later. Maybe you can play them for me, I think, bottling up the suggestion before I hear your feet coming down the hallway with your coat on. A person's apartment can tell a lot about them. How tidy it is, messy, the dishes left out in the sink. I never paid attention to the clothes I'd see around, if there were any, or the glasses that have been sitting on the counter for the past two days. I was always transfixed by your musical collection, your records, the pieces of your passion spread out on the walls, between wooden shelves, what's inside your phone. When I first told Krew I was dating a musician, if you could call it dating, she asked me if you were teaching me guitar or making me playlists or taking me to gigs. I remember wondering why you weren't trying to submerge me into that world, your world, but now, a year and a half later, I'm ready to be thrown in, I'm ready to see what I haven't been able to see yet. Seeing visions of you at the piano, in the studio, writing lyrics, I get itchy wanting to see you in your element. I don't need to learn guitar, you know I've no patience and clumsy fingers. I want your fingers on the strings. I've been lucky enough to see fractions, and I cannot wait until I can see it all.

Effervescent adjective - Whenever I hear the ping on my phone that I've a text from you, even if it's you responding with one or two words when I ask if you want pasta for dinner. The trailing of your fingertips along my shoulder, the circling you do without realising it's occurring as I remain curled up against you when we're watching the Voice. When we're in a room full of people and you're engaged in conversation with a group, but I catch your eyes lift and settle onto mine and you keep talking, charming a room only you know how, only to have your lips perk at the sides and smile at me, it makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Waking up to your fingers tangled in my hair, morning after morning. The smell of your aftershave and how I wish I could have it lingering in clouds around me when we part. Your mouth, full of toothpaste and muffled words, desperately trying to kiss mine.

Elate verb - The first time you called me baby. The first time you called me yours. The first time you put your hands on me with divine purpose. The first time you took me home. The first time you told your friends I was yours. The first time you said I love you. The first time you danced with me. The first time you told me, casually, that you wanted me to move in with you. The first time you called me your slut. The first time you held Rocco. The first time you fucked me in public. The first time you used the word forever.

Elude/ verb - Montenegro has been in the back of our minds for nearly three months now, never rushing to the forefront until now. We needed this time to clear our heads, to relax, and most importantly, get away to celebrate your birthday, an amazing year at thirty-one and the transition into the addition of a single digit. All of your presents will be uncovered in time and I don't just mean the lace and strings to be untied. I hope you don't mind it won't be as easy for you to get them all in one shot.

Embody verb - The most loving father and partner.

Emphatic adjective - Faded purple and blue thumbprints on my hips. The raised welts on my ass from your belt, your hand, the paddle you take out less than I'd like you to. The greed in your eyes always tells me you'd rather it come from you, your skin, having me at your disposal without the outside help of something more. The backing into a wall, cornering me with the weight of your hips anchoring me, daring me to move, daring me to stay. Your teeth. Fuck. Your teeth and the pain they inflict. The marks and the suspicion they raise whenever a new job comes around my way.

Enamor verb - Half-lidded eyes in the early hours of the morning, the light reflecting the green hues blending together. Full bodied laughter loud enough to shake even the sturdiest cracks in the foundation. Your lips and how they part and deny entrance, skating up the center of my stomach with a gaze that tells me I'm going to regret being an outspoken brat behind closed doors. Perfectly square and long fingers around the column of my neck. Your intellect. Your wit, your rapid-fire response that generates phrases and words like no other. Your heart. I didn't know that a heart so genuine could exist outside of fiction.

Endearing adjective - Your sense of humour. Your understanding. Backseat cab rides with fabricated accents and tales. Making wreaths around the holidays. Dancing in the living room to Zayn (this was your idea first, not mine). Not letting your age tell you how you're supposed to act and present yourself. Your twitter and Instagram. Piggyback rides in cities we've been to for the very first time. Everyone calling us mum and dad. Watching you talk to Rocco as if he could speak back to you. Your delusions that Rocco is always trying to punch you in the face.

Enthrall verb - All the gods, all the heavens, all the hells, are within you.

Entice verb - With a single look, you know the one, you can: bring me to my knees, strip me of my bones, weakening me to a state of desperation where only you can cure me by filling me with you, mentally and physically, make my legs shake, cause my shoulders to rattle from laughing too hard when you whisper in my ear, make me more scared than I've ever been in my entire life, overwhelm me with happiness, frustrate and enrage me, make me wet, help me realise that even though society has taught me to be wary of happiness and how it can wrong us, obtaining it isn't an unrealistic feat.

Erratic adjective - The opposite of my feelings for you. Never changing, only growing. My mind ticks in mysterious, violent ways, but through this storm, you're the center that calms and protects.

Euphoria noun - The scent of the salt from our skin mixed with sweat, the air misty with sex as it silently suffocated us inside the van as we uncomfortably laid in the backseat, our setting less than romantic in nature, our hearts loud and our breaths calm. That feeling as we finally came together, a meeting of minds and bodies to reach a certain point of liberation. You tasted like freedom yet I held you as my prisoner underneath me, our movements soft and gentle, unsure and unaware of where this would lead. We don't fuck gently anymore. We fuck with purpose and tension, easing frustration and cracks that cannot be filled in any other way.

Evoke verb - Once upon a time there was a woman who felt too cynical and bruised by her mistakes, taking on the wrongdoings of others and inserting them onto the never ending list of things she hasn't been able to crawl through. Once upon a time there was a man who hadn't given up on the idea of an idealistic future, the dream that has become tarnished in the minds of so many. Once upon a time their stories bridged together and that man proved to that woman how idealism isn't a nauseating dream that will never be reached. He taught her how hard love can be, testing her and himself over time, bringing out the beauty that only strikes maybe once or twice.

Expectation noun - Also see: reality. Catching the sun rising every morning. Being pulled apart until streaks of vulnerability pan into focus. Being put back together slowly, with hands that hold history and knowledge of subject matter to be learned and enjoyed. The taste of wine. A repeat of limbs tangled while playing a harmless game. Games that are anything but harmless. Duct tape. The leather trash of a belt. Silk sheets. Missed opportunities to kiss you. Kissing you for no reason at all. Tightening inside my chest. What if? Why not? One day becoming yours the way I know you want me to.

Expedite verb - I used to look forward to time away, moments of solitude. You've ruined that in me. You've made me long for your arms and your hands to be around me as quickly as possible, my patience shattered as I wait for you by the door or the phone. Haven't you been able to see the kind of mess I am when I'm without you? Before you I lacked patience in a lot of areas, after you've come into my life I've stopped trying to pretend that I can wait hours, minutes, to hear from you. This is all your fault.

Explicit adjective - Because it's your birthday and we're celebrating you, I'm going to suck your cock until it's raw and red and soaked from my tongue and the back of my throat. I'm not going to take my time. I'm going to use nothing but my mouth, no hands guiding me, you can decide where they go; behind my back with tape around my wrists or with my nails digging into the sides of your ass. I'm going to make you cum, baby. I'm going to make you cum so fucking hard, and I'm going to let you watch me take it all on my tongue, letting the excess drip onto my tits and my chin. I'm going to be the prettiest slut painted in your cum, won't I?

Extrovert noun - The loud to my soft. You balance the quiet in me with your active, colourful personality that shines through in every room you enter. You're so oblivious to how well you can conduct and charm a room with a few simple splashes of your wit or your words. You make my heart race because I'm never sure what's going to come out next. You've never embarrassed me, even if you'd like to believe that I do when my face flushes and I get quiet. I've never been with someone like you before, and I don't think the compliment can get any higher than that.

Exuberant/ adjective - The way you feel when you come home with a new polo or cardigan despite how many glares you receive from me when I tell you that you already own four that look exactly like it. The excited texts I receive from you after you've been in the studio. All of the messages you flood me with when I'm sleeping or away from you for more than ten minutes at a time. I know you think you're an annoyance when you do that, but you're anything but that. When we're reading together and you slip ahead of me in chapters and begin to tell me bits and pieces, wanting desperately to spoil me so that we can talk about it together. I've always loved how much you've showcased a true penchant for doing things as a team, as a unit.

Exult verb - 2016 has come with new beginnings and challenges for the both of us, separately and together. I wouldn't take back anything in the last year, Ezra. I have become a stronger, better woman because of how you've been able to climb every wall inside of me without falling and letting the floor cave in underneath you. Very few men have really tried with me, none ever expressing the resilience that you have. You're stronger than you believe, tougher, smarter, and more talented than you could ever give yourself credit for. I am lucky to be able to call you mine, but more than that, I am lucky to have been changed by being your friend and a parent with you. I wouldn't have been able to get through the last year and a half without you and I would like to thank you for always being there for me and showing me that I am not the person I believe I am in emotional moments of strife. I am thrilled to celebrate another year of you getting older. Thirty-two is only a number, I know you know that, but it's going to serve you amazingly, I know it. I cannot wait to see what this year holds for you, for you as a dad, for your music, your career, all of your passion projects and endeavors. I love you, Ezra Michael. I hope that your birthday is full of love and laughter and a lot of really hot sex (double-check). Happy birthday, my love.