Dear . . .


I want to write your story. All of your stories. I want to drink wine and listen all night to every weird part of yourself you haven’t quite figured out yet. Let me put it into words.

I want to read Anais Nin with you and watch you fall in love with Bukowski. I want to learn to dance ballet and practice yoga with you.

I want to find more of me with you.

I want to kiss you again.


I want to find comfort in you, a comfort few people can understand. I want to learn more about you and spend an afternoon sharing aha! moments about our childhoods.

I want to drink coffee, even when you have decaf. I want to drink whiskey, even when you have tea.

I want to know the why to your everything, share my own. I want to learn, discuss, and discover everything you know.

I want to kiss you again.


I want to know you away from everyone. I want to see you unmasked. I want to read what you write, teach you everything I don’t know about being a writer, share these ridiculous dreams.

I want to let you take care of me, feed me, make me coffee at 1 a.m. when I need to feel neurotic.

I want your smell again, your hair, that moment when I did something I’ve never done before.

I want to kiss you again.


I want you. I want all of you again.


I want to talk sometimes. I want to think of you without guilt. I want to always remember you exactly the way it was, because it was just right.

I want to always love you a little bit, no matter how long.

Someday, I want to kiss you again.


I want to know where it could have gone. I want to know what you’re doing now. I want to talk about the lives we’ve led, wonder how many nights you’ve had like ours.

I want to get lost with you in the heat of the night, smoke cigarettes, and drink gin and melt into your bed. I want to not know how I got home.

I want a chance to see what I could have been if I hadn’t walked away that night.

I want to kiss you again.


Frenchie. I want to see you again. I want to stop thinking about you. I want to know if you ever think of me anymore, if I ever mattered at all to you. I want to forget you.

I want to take your picture in Paris, listen to your song in Bordeaux, write your story in New York.

I want to slip into a hot tub, a hammock, a bathroom stall; I want to hear your secrets whispered in drunk French.

I want to kiss you again.


I want to be your friend. I want to always feel the way you made me feel about touching you. I want to have a drink and laugh with you, celebrate life, and remember that one time . . .

I want to kiss you again.


I want to touch you again. I want to teach you everything I know. I want to teach you everything I’ve learned since I saw you last. I want to know what you’ve decided about yourself.

I want to kiss you again.

Browse our archives for resources, tips, and tools for budding writers. Subscribe to updates for more projects from WBL creator Dana Sitar.

Live the Life You’re Passionate About


I work hard to hold back from imposing my idea of a “good life” on others. To each his own; that’s fine. But I refuse to remain silent every time I hear, “I wish I could…” You know what that means? “I wish I could…” followed by anything you’re not actually doing or actively pursuing […]

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Protected: E-Pub Workshop Participant Discussion

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What I Want to Be When I Grow Up

writing daily

I once wanted to be a construction worker, because I wanted to be everything my dad was after my parents’ divorce. I once wanted to be a babysitter, because I liked babies (in doll form, mostly), and my sitter was an adult, so I figured it was a thing. I once wanted to be a […]

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Let Go of the Things That No Longer Serve You

letting go

A classic bit of yogi wisdom I was reminded of recently by Jessica Lawlor. And, in my opinion, a much more satisfying way of setting goals and resolutions than actually setting goals and resolutions. (Read about yoga and letting go here.) I’m letting go of . . . Believing my brand needs to fit a […]

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