i can think of a million and one things i want to say, but when the moment comes, i’m tongue-tied or mute, words failing me.
i’m a better writer, anyway.
i’ve never been one for verbal plaudits – speaking can be so damn hard for me.
sitting down, pen in hand, i can write things that are on my heart, on my mind with ease my mouth will never be able to match.
i write (mostly) for me.
occasionally, some of those words will find themselves folded into an envelope which has been addressed – even rarer, an envelope that gets stamped and given into the hands of the postal service.
when i’m with you, i want you to know just how much you mean to me – even if i don’t speak a word.