In response to the daily prompt Praise

Him: Let me worship at your altar… Does that sound dirty to you?

He laughs and I shake my head

Me: You think everything sounds dirty, it’s your dirty mind

Him: Pot meet kettle

So mature as he pokes his tongue out at me

Me: What the hell are you trying to write anyway?

Him: A love letter

I feign shock, collapsing on the bed beside him

Me: You … letter … write?

Him: You’re not funny

His grin says otherwise

Me: What is it you want to say then

Him: How wonderful she is, how much I’m thinking about her

Me: Why not just call or text her?

He shakes his head and sighs at me

Him: Come on babe, I’m trying to be romantic here

My turn to sigh. Help him write a love letter, that’s what friends are for right?

Me: So tell her that … that she’s amazing and you want to be with her all the time. Tell her how everything makes you think of her. How you miss her touch, how you want to sleep wrapped in her arms

He scribbles on his notepad then looks up at me with his heartbreaker eyes

Him: That’s good. Want to hear it?

Not really but I nod encouragement then lay back and close my eyes ..

Dearest Darling,

I know it’s not the done thing to write letters these days but I wanted to send you a little piece of me to hold and I hope to keep. Something tangible, more than words on a screen or my voice on the phone.

In case you didn’t know, I find you fascinating, mesmerising. I can’t walk down the street without thinking about you. The yellow roses in the florist remind me of the dress you wore on our first date. I pass a coffee shop and I’m picturing you sipping coffee and telling me about your darkest fantasy. Remember?

I’m writing this at 3am because I woke up missing you. The silk of your skin, the way your hair tangles around my hand, that little humming noise you make when you sleep (not snoring!).

Me: It’s not 3am

Him: Pretty sure it’s called creative license

Me: Huh. Okay, go on

Him: That’s all I have. Help me

I roll my head towards him, find him looking at me expectantly

Me: Seriously? Do I look like I write love letters?

That gets a laugh out of him, asshole

Him: Fine, fine. I’ll do it myself

Can’t wait to see you.
Yours always