I’ve been thinking about what I would actually want if I ever chose to be in another relationship. Of course, there are the important things. I want honesty, maturity, communication, trust, and someone who shares my morals and values. I want to feel safe with someone. I want to know that when something is wrong, we can talk about it instead of turning it into a game of guessing, avoiding, or wondering what the other person really means. Those things matter to me more now than they ever have.

But I also want someone I can be completely stupid with.

I want the kind of laughter that comes from absolutely nothing. I want to be able to look across a room and already know what they’re thinking. I want inside jokes that would sound insane if we tried to explain them to anyone else. I want to send them something ridiculous in the middle of the day because I already know exactly what they’ll say back. I want to laugh about something so dumb that months later, all it takes is one word to make us laugh all over again.

I want to be weird without realizing I’m being weird. I want to sing badly in the car, dance terribly in the kitchen, make stupid voices, say whatever random thought comes into my head, and never wonder if I’m being too much. I want to know their weird side too—the terrible jokes, the random habits, the version of them that comes out when they aren’t trying to impress anyone.

I think what I really want is that level of comfort with another person. I’ve had enough of overthinking every conversation, wondering what someone meant, watching what I say, or trying to figure out what kind of mood they’re in. I don’t want love to feel like constantly reading the room. I want to be able to breathe around the person I’m with.

That doesn’t mean I want a relationship without seriousness. I want someone mature enough to know when something matters. Someone who can have hard conversations, admit when they’re wrong, tell me what they’re feeling, listen when I tell them what I’m feeling, and handle the real parts of building a life with another person. I want that same person to be able to turn around five minutes later and make me laugh until I forget what we were even talking about.

I want both. I want midnight conversations about life, fears, family, the future, and everything that matters, and pointless conversations over breakfast about something neither of us actually cares about. I want depth without everything always feeling heavy.

Because I think being stupid with someone requires its own kind of safety. There’s a vulnerability in letting someone see the unfiltered version of you, the one that isn’t trying to be attractive, interesting, impressive, or put together. Not only trusting someone with the deepest parts of yourself, but trusting them with the silliest parts too.

And more than anything, I want someone who feels like home enough that I can be completely, unapologetically stupid with them.