You are who I thought about when the train left the station. Yesterday’s musings were long gone (just like the taste of iron in my mouth) and I sighed like the sun as I watched you walk away. Summer was a thousand miles away and you, only a hundred. It hurts to try.  I want to try. 

                      They didn’t check my ticket and that almost made me sad.  I hoped the moon would be out that night, but it would have cost me all my hopes and dreams to wish it into existence. I hope you spend your days remembering me. 

I always watch the Ferris wheel from my window and think about how afraid I am of heights. High-strung heartstrings all the way into the morning, you used to say. Did you think of me when you spun sweet words like yarn in your hands? Did you think of me? Did you think of me? Do you think of me now?

There was a snowstorm last weekend. I spent time with my best friend, and we talked about you; I can’t wait to see you come Friday. I can’t wait to see you after the week’s work is done. I wonder often if you sit in your room alone and stare at the wall and hope for closeness and love and the smallness of a forgotten kiss. It’s the kind you knew when you were a child. Back when your tears were so fragile they’d shatter into pieces when they fell from your eyes and hardened into glass in your hands. I cry about you like that these days. I love you, and I cry about you. Don’t feel bad, though. Anything is worth your love. 

Do you ever think of your hometown? Do you think about the snow angels on the sidewalk in front of your mother’s house? Do you think about walking to the bridge to meet me halfway between our homes on a chilly winter night? I want to believe you’d still do it any day if I asked. I want to believe that when you think of our hometown you think of me too. 

You know, this winter has grown colder than I’d anticipated. There’s a bit more snow and a harsher chill than I’d like, and the store around the corner feels farther away than it should. I wonder how hard it would be for me to just get on a train to your city on any one of these cold afternoons so we could go to your house and pretend it’s the middle of summer inside your apartment, and we could be warm. 

P.S. You looked gorgeous today. I wish I could kiss you and miss you all the same. 

Letter to a loved one pt. 2

It’s still winter and I’m sorry about that. I remember clear as day when you told me you wish spring was upon us already. Darling, if I could make it be late April when the birds return and their singing wakes us all up again I would, and I would wish for a warm, snow-melted kiss from you like I do every year. I wish a got a letter from you every day. 

                      You know how they start casting lights on city landmarks in the dead of winter? That’s how it feels to be in love all year round. You mean so much to me, but these feelings are as nuanced as that Phoebe Bridgers album you wanted me to listen to last fall. I love you all the time but I cry about you all the time and I wish winter wasn’t here right now so I could hold you all the time. Can you feel how I’m crying through my words, honey? I don’t mean to make you sad but I’m crying through all my words (all the time), and I hope you’ll reply one day and stain your letter with tears too. I want us to be sad together; I want us to love together.

                      Anyway, February is upon us. I can’t wait to see you once the week is over. I can’t wait to kiss you, honey. 

P.S. Hold my hand, please. I have so much love to give.