Strout.

"i want to collect all my words, written and unwritten, spoken or unspoken, finished and unfinished, words held captive in drafts being erased and jotted back down in different ways over and over again and slip them into your mouth, make you have a taste of what you never knew, what i need you to know. i want to take every consonant and vowel of the alphabet yet to be strung together and turned into something that makes sense to you from me and make you listen to the sound of each syllable you need to hear in order to feel what i feel. i want to take all these dear-you’s and dear-me’s and dear-us’s of the future and past and pack them away in one huge envelope filled with all the hugs and sealed with all the kisses we missed out on having when you decided to walk away and have you read the thump-thumps of my heartbeat. i want to have my language be your language and to understand what i mean when i say all this.. or do i have to spell it out for you? that all i really want is for you to come back here."