Sometimes I wish I could talk to you in person. That I could be upfront with you. To be as sappy as I want to be with you, and say all the corny lines that come to my mind as they pop up. That you would laugh and blush at them, and then give me a hug and a peck on the cheek.
I wish we could sleep in on Sundays intertwined and tangled up in each other, letting the day grow long. I wish we could hold hands and laugh at the funny hats on the stands out on the street. And then go for a delicious meal in an empty restaurant with an old lady covered in wrinkles serving us food.
Sometimes I wish I would finally tell you how I feel, and that you would say you felt the same way all along.
Sometimes I wish it would just work out.
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