Fifty years and you're still the prettiest argument I never want to win.
Fresh today · Saturday, 27 June
New Wishes
A handful of wishes pulled from the cabinet this morning. Pick one up — copy, save it to your pinboard, or send it on.
Through every season, your hand has been the warmest thing I know.
Half a century, and your tea is still the only one I want.
You've been my home so long I forget what loneliness sounds like.
Fifty years in, and our silence is still the best conversation.
We've turned ordinary days into a fifty-year love letter.
↑ pick one up
Browse by occasion
What are we writing today?
Cabinets sorted by occasion. Open one — pages are arranged by warmth, not algorithm.
- Anniversary
- Baby
- Belated
- Best
- Birthday
- Boy
- Boyfriend
- Christian
- Christmas
- Congratulation
- Diwali
- Easter
- Eid Mubarak
- Engagement
- Farewell
- Fathers Day
- Friendship
- Funny
- Get Well
- Girl
- Girlfriend
- Good Morning
- Good Night
- Graduation
- Hanukkah
- Heart Touching
- Holiday
- Invitation
- Job
- Love
- Miss You
- Mothers Day
- New Year
- Recovery
- Retirement
- Romantic
- Thank You
- Thanksgiving
- Wedding
- Well
- Women's Day
- Sympathy
- Valentine's Day
- Halloween
- Veterans Day
More from today
Happy golden anniversary, my dear — you are still my softest place to land.
Five decades of breakfasts together, and I still want to know what you're thinking.
We've kept each other through more weather than I can name. Thank you.
Fifty years, and you still make me forget I was annoyed.
You've been the steady one, and I've loved you for it every single day.
Half a century, dear wife — and you remain my favorite kind of trouble.
We've earned every wrinkle together, and I love every one of yours.
Fifty years on, and the world still looks better with you in it.
Happy fiftieth, my love — the long road has been the best road.
We've built a whole life out of small, faithful days.
Fifty years of you, and I'm still not done being grateful.
Miss you — the small kind of miss that doesn't go away with distraction.
The kettle whistles and I still expect to hear your voice answer.
You're not here and the room knows it.
Missing you has become a kind of weather I live in.
I keep saving little stories to tell you, and they're piling up.
The bench we used to sit on looks lonelier without you on it.
Miss you in the way certain songs miss their second verse.
I went the long way home today, just to think about you longer.