Sometimes I just wish I could hug you. Like a sweet little novel I've been dying to read, I wish to read you, all over, front and back, spine to paper. And yes, often times, I just wish I could wrap you up in a roll of oozing vanilla and breathe the moment in. I wish I could tell you that you're worth more than the girl who left you standing on you front porch with a lingering love. Sometimes, I wish that your eyes would softly rest upon mine and feel peace in knowing your life is not complete with her, but rather complemented, perhaps, with me. Someday I wish you look at life's disappointments as a step towards greater and not a stand still of why's and why-not's. And if you're willing, I would hope you sit and wish the same for me.