I wish my words were more than words.
I wish they were stars, so they would glitter and sparkle and shine, for infinity.
I wish they were your favourite battered vinyl, so you could listen to them over and over again and smile.
I wish they were an endless jar of Marmite, so you could spread them on your breakfast and enjoy them with your morning toast…
Who knows when you will read this.
Maybe in a few hours time.
Maybe in a few days, or weeks, or months.
Or maybe, years and years from now you will come across these words; dusty and faded but not even a fraction less true than when I first scribbled them down.
Maybe you will hold them with your rough, wrinkled hands, and maybe you will read them from behind the delicate glass of your spectacles, and maybe, just maybe, you will understand what I really mean when I say ‘I love you’.
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