I was given a book a few years ago called Other People’s Love Letters. It is a book of collected letters some given to the editor by the recipients, others are found letters – I love found letters and notes but that is a whole other blog in itself. It is a hugely voyeuristic look into other peoples love lives, the lust, heart ache, melancholy and over whelming joy. It’s strange to think that something someone puts so much of their heart into would normally never see the light of day – then again I suppose that it the point really, if it were for public consumption then I expect people would keep a little of themselves back. The act of putting something on paper is a freeing one, face to face things can be difficult sometimes, words don’t always come out right and things get muddled.
“Yes, I’m that girl. The one who waits for the Hallmark holiday to tell the guy she’s crazy about the things she wants to tell him every day, but can’t get him to stay awake long enough to tell him. Never in a million years would I have thought that the painfully resonating you on the other end of the line would belong to the person who I now can’t imagine life without. Without you, I’d have no one to beat in dominoes, no one to show me the true importance of following a recipe, no one to make me laugh, make me giddy and make me fat. No one to challenge what I say, question what I believe and encourage me to stand up for myself. You mean so much to me…I’m insanely crazy about you, well accept when you use that forbidden phrase – then I’m only a little crazy about you. I got butterflies the first time you kissed me, and they haven’t gone away. I hope they never do. Love Teresa”
When you have a little time and space to think things through they come out a lot better.