I want to express my deepest devotion – No, that doesn't sound right. How can I tell you how much I – That's not right either.

Why is it so hard to say the simplest things? What makes some words work, and others sound empty and fabricated? I wish I knew.

I love you. There. Now that I've said it – It still looks wrong. But it's in my heart. I guess that's what the problem is. Words must not be the correct medium for this sort of thing, you know? I can say it as often and as verbosely as I want and truly mean it – oh, how I mean it – but it still will leave me not satisfied because words are wrong. Actions are better – though I don't think they're quite right, either. At least not completely. I want you to know how I love you but unless you're me, I don't think that you can know, and if you were me I'd not be in love because there would be no you. If you follow.

That brings me back to my original dilemma. This love letter I'm writing that's not wanting to be written. To say I love you. But I said it already, there in paragraph three. So is there a reason to continue this letter except the fact that paragraph three does not really say that I love you? If there are no words that can, why am I still writing? That's a better question and unanswerable at that. I think it's because I am a writer so I must keep trying even though I know it's a failure. It's reason enough. So, I love you. There, I've said it again. It feels better every time – but still not quite right. Maybe the fact I'm trying – and still trying – can say it. The act itself, not the content. That might work better. So for now I close this love letter that says nothing at all that I want it to say –

Yours always.