this isn't the message i was supposed to write you. i write this in hurry. i know i'm two days late.

maybe this is just what i do now, writing things you'll never read. but i will keep writing. i know i will never run out of words or stories to share.

wherever you end up in future, i hope good things will find you and sunlight stays just a little longer than needed. you look very pretty in the afternoon's sun, did i tell you that? i think i did.

this letter shows no urgency, only the slow kind of love