I am in bed thinking of you. You still make me stir inside. I love you so much. I can’t wait to make love with you again. I want to gaze into your eyes while we do it.

I want to be tender to you. I want to hold you. I want to tend to our emotional projects and play board games. Actually, just one board game lately.

I have been looking at houses in the east end on Zillow. Maybe we could make that a sort of emotional project someday? Renovating a 1940s era Houston pile of sticks—with good bones?

Good bones are important, if you know what I mean.

I promise, my sweet, sweet, baby, that I will always write you love letters.