Ninety Third

Hold onto that.
It might be worth something someday.
And you can sell it, or something.
Take some scissors and slice up the words, choose your favourite sentence out of the entire thing and keep it under your pillow, let someone else have the rest of it, I don't mind, I don't think I do, I don't think I will.
(all important things are said in person)
(all my love I give you in person)
I think if one of my letters flew with you in a plane, made you feel so much less alone, rode with you in a car, fell asleep in your hands as your gaze travelled upwards towards the moving skies, held you close on a rainy rainy day that couldn't get worse and then it did, if it spent even half the amount of the time with you it took me to write it, that was all that mattered.
I give you these words for safekeeping, because I have more from where they came from anyway, because I can't hold it all in, everything I have to share.
Everything I want you to have, for now, for tomorrow, for as long as you want to have it for, it is yours. Keep them warm and my words will shelter you in a hug and hold I designed specifically for you.