There used to be a time when the only form of communication between loved ones living apart or courting each other was letter. And not just any letter. It didn’t consist of “Hey, what’s up?” “Whatcha doing”. It didn’t ding as a message on a phone. It wasn’t type on a backlit computer screen. It was a love letter.
Love letters told of hopes, dreams, and proclaimed undying devotion. What would I give to have a man write me a love letter. Not a damn text, email or phone call. Not a type-written note that he hit File> Print.
I want a beautiful peace of parchment paper with words that are neat, legible and a smudge mark or two. The art of righting a love letter is a lost form. But I wrote a love letter once to the man I was suppose to marry before our relationship took a tragic turn for the worst. And it went something like this:
In today’s daily banter and interaction with people, our conversation never seems to really express how I truly feel about you Erik. When I say you make my heart go pitter-patter, I mean it. But I feel like today’s language has lost the romanticism of the heart and doesn’t begin to justify my emotions…so in a feeble attempt to tell you how I feel. I’m going describe what I imagine and what experiences I feel resemble my thoughts in my soul when I think of you, when I touch you, when I hear you, when I imagine a life with you.
My dearest love, my sweet,
I think of a beat and feel you flowing through my heart like waves of sound from strings sweetly plucked on a violin. To hear a swoon of my lover’s sigh melts my soul and heart completely, and ever so lightly, like a bird’s wings in flight over the endless ocean. The ceaseless exasperation of seeking three decades for my other half in a world full of millions is like a star that burns brightly and is only seen for a moment galaxies away; which has full-filled its destiny to shine gloriously and is as appreciated as the night sky illuminates and guides sailors at sea. I have sat under the midnight blue speckled blanket and pondered the reasons for living and surviving in this life and have spoken to the silent Power above. I heard the silent empty greatness reply it would be filled with warmth which radiates from the brother of the moon. You’re laughter, your breath, your voice, your frustrations, your sadness, your touch, your heart, your love are like the sun shining through the greyness of winter passing. And as sure as the season pass, and music never ceases, and life goes on, you complete me my love, my sweet.
Ah…this sort of proclamation needs to happen more often.
But most importantly, I hope the man in your life will pause to reflect how he really feels about you and will so bold as to write it down…the old-fashioned way; with pen and paper.