#📋 - taeyong

[00127am]

signed with love and forever yours, taeyong

postage. lee taeyong & gn! reader, no warnings! cost to ship. 594 words

i can't seem to write letters to you. every time i sit down and try to write one out, i fail. i've tried a hundred times by now and each one in this hundred hasn't been able to fully capture what i feel for you. no iteration of any sort of confession seems to meet the mark. i don't like saying i love you and i don't like reducing my affections down to those three, little words. three tiny syllables. because they are too small to encapsulate the whole of what i feel for you. though i'm not sure that any words can.

and when i try to find them, the words, i draw a blank. it's the same as when i sit down to write these letters to you. each time i do, i am so consumed by you, that i cannot even write the address. how do i write to someone who makes me feel things that not even words can describe? how do i show you how much i adore you if i cannot even muster up the courage to sign your name? how do i tell you how i feel if any such words that say it best fail to reach the extent of my affections?

and if i were to write to you, to speak to you, and use the phrase i love you--i think that i would wear it out. that i would say it, again and again and again and again until it no longer bore the meaning it once did. that you would grow tired of it falling from my lips because i would say it with everything you do. and i would write it on every letter, at the end of every sentence, as if it were a period. punctuating every word and phrase which i send to you, in hopes that this overuse would properly grasp the weight of my feelings. i doubt it.

i wish i could find the words for you. but until i do, please take i love you. because i truly do, love you, in every way which extends beyond the words.

about taeyong's love letters.

taeyong writes his letters in messy cursive, rushed and impatient. it's as if he can't seem to get the words out fast enough, phrases often repeating and points made over and over again. he can never seem to find the perfect phrasing, but his rambling usually encompasses everything he's trying to say or at the very least, everything that he's feeling in the moment.

all of his letters are written on sparse paper he has lying around, ripped and crumpled. he writes on music sheets and sticky notes and receipts, covering front and back with pretty words and sentiments that pull a blush to your cheeks. he sends them along with any thing lying around that he thinks you would like. flower petals, cut outs from magazines, candy wrappers. all pieces of his life that he sends to you, so you can hold pieces of him--even when he's hundreds of miles away.

when you read his letters, you feel like your heart may burst out of your chest. you read his words like how he has written them, quickly and hurriedly, as if they may bleed off the page if you take one second too long to blink. you feel as if you've been consumed by adrenaline, heart beating a mile a minute. and when you read them, in this way that makes you ache (body and soul), you find yourself agreeing that love is not nearly enough of a word.

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