bonus content for the found duet: a valentine's day letter from J.C.

Gwen,

I have so much I want to say to you and no idea where to begin. We’ve lost so much time and the words build up. Dozens upon dozens of “Good mornings” and “How are you’s” and “You’re beautifuls” are stacked up waiting. Waiting to be said and meant.

But even if I could actually send this, I wouldn’t write those words here. You’d read them without me, and on paper they’d look like plain old words. Ordinary letters saying ordinary things. I wouldn’t send them because I couldn’t be certain that you’d see what they really meant. Each “Hello”, each “I miss you”, each “the” and “an” and “it”—they really all say just one thing: I love you.

I love you, Gwen. I love you.

But since I can’t send this or any other letter to you, I’ll have to save this. And when I finally see you again and I’m too chicken shit to do anything but babble and small talk, I’ll hand this to you so that you’ll know what I’m really saying. That each stupid, boring word I utter is really I love you. I love you. I love you.

J.C.