Rarely am I in the habit of leaving my thoughts unwritten and unfinished. So if you’re reading this, you’ve seen this
unwritten love letter.
But lately sometimes I sit here content staring at the rain outside, or just reading, waiting to see your smile again.
I love it when your eyes catch the light of something I’m unaware of, something silently and intimately your own; a secret from the world that makes everything all the more meaningful.
Once I found a love-letter hidden in a newspaper that the author forgot or was too afraid to send. It made me sad to think of those words unread, except by me; someone they were never meant for.
Deep down somehow I think the person knows that they are loved. I’m sorry if I get so distressed about it but I think of them like it could be my love, etched into my body, it’s the marks of my passion and affection and devotion for you.
And to think of a love like ours is so beautiful because it is so imperfect; that I think I will never finish writing them; and I will always leave some unwritten; just for you.