Tonight I sit here with my heart open and exposed. I sit here with a clouded mind and so I turn to the very place that brings me comfort and a sense of peace: writing. I bear my thoughts to you with digital pen and paper in the hope that somehow in this tangent I make some bit of sense.
I miss the days of snail mail…
I miss when words were written long and slow. When you could see the curve of each unique letter or the way the sender’s hand shook as they wrote. I miss the way you could feel a bit of emotion in the letters because you know the person took the time to dutifully pen them out to you. I miss the connection felt over the many miles that only a handwritten letter could give. Long before the days of the internet, I remember receiving handwritten letters from friends and family, and feeling a deep sense of love. They had taken the time to write just to me.
And now I sit here with an aching heart. Recently I had asked to write to a family member. We aren’t close and so I thought that writing from the heart every now and then would be a good way to connect. So I sent a letter in a hot air balloon-clad card complete with a smiley on the envelope. A few days later I received a call. “Don’t write to me” he said, “Just pick up the phone and call”.
And I could! And I suppose now I have no choice. And yet, I still prefer writing letters. I love taking the time to compose my thoughts, especially to those I’m not extremely close to. Again, I reached out to a friend of mine, longing to be close to them. In response they asked, “but what would you need my address for?”. They were skeptical of why I would want to send a letter. Eventually I got their address, and again a letter of love and friendship was sent.
But my heart hurts.
I miss the days of long ago. I was born on the cusp between the days before the internet and finally seeing it take over the world. I remember the days of rotary phones and door to door mailmen. I miss the patience that it takes to wait for a letter to arrive. I miss the anticipation of opening up the post box to see that a letter you’ve been waiting for is there. Nothing made me more giddy as a young child, then to open the letter box and see a colorful card addressed to me. 🙂
Now we hover by our cell phones with bated breath waiting to see our text message turn from “delivered” to “read”. And heaven forbid that the reader doesn’t reply right away with those three flashing dots, we begin to question if something is terribly wrong. Are they angry with us? Are they casting us aside?! Back in the days of letter writing, if you did receive a letter from someone you weren’t particularly fond of, you could quietly dispose of the letter in the trash. Or, you could send a polite thank you card and the person would be none the wiser of your true feelings.
There was space in the world for emotion. There was time to think about our actions. Things weren’t sent with the click of a button and vanished without a trace. Moments written on pen and paper could be saved for decades, and even lifetimes. So, I choose to live differently. My mother always said that I was born to the wrong decade and perhaps she’s right. I will write my letters. I will make space in a handwritten letter, choosing to put my feelings to loved ones there, instead of a giant block of text that looks abnormal in a text message. I will send it off in the post box with a silent prayer that they appreciate the sentiment.
And above all, I will cling to hope that letters don’t become obsolete. Have a beautiful night everyone. ❤
~Miss Cutie xx