Write me a love letter. Premeditated and thought through. I don’t want you to look at me and suddenly decide you want to confess the love you think you have for me.
Write me a love letter. Pen all your thoughts that sound corny or cheesy or just weird. Write it twice or three times till you realize there’s nothing like a perfect love letter. Be honest.
Write me a love letter. Get one of those scented papers, forgetting I have a sensitive nose. And while you’re at it, buy a bouquet of daisies because they are my favourite.
Write me a love letter. Nervously, yet with a certain surety that comes from knowing that this is exactly what you want. Then tell me, with words stained on a plain sheet of paper.
Write me a love letter. Use all your big words the first time. All your new words the second time. All your favourite, honest words the third time. Third time’s the charm, they say.
Write me a love letter. Not because I am asking. Well, because I am asking. I want one. I want to see the words you whisper to my heart when I am not looking.
Write me a love letter. For the good times, to reminisce. For the bad times, to be reminded of the Why. For the days when I need a reason to keep living. Loving.
Write me a love letter. Or don’t. What do I know?