March 9, 2021

Hi You,

I didn’t realize how much it meant to me to share my life with you. I missed writing this week. But why do I miss it? I’m not a writer. I’ve never taken any classes or had any formal training. In fact, I remember in elementary school, in English class, when we would have to identify the different types of words in the sentence, the verb, adjective, adverb, etc., it was always a crapshoot for me. One wild guess after the other. The only one that I could identify for sure was the noun.

My dad has always been big on giving cards. We would get not one, but maybe two or even three cards from him and my stepmom on birthdays and holidays. Every one of them they wrote in. He didn’t like when people just signed their names on cards, it was impersonal to him. Do you know how hard it is to find one card that fits someone perfectly? That says exactly what you want it to? Imagine trying to find multiple, then writing something different in each of them. This might be where it all began. My love for writing. It is one of those traditions that as a child I dreaded but now, it is part of who I am.

This may also be the reason why I am drawn to the card section in stores. It doesn’t matter if I’m going for a coffee at Starbucks in Barnes & Noble (which I haven’t done since COVID started), or bread at the grocery store, I always end up at the cards. I have no qualms about being that person, standing alone, and laughing hysterically at random greeting cards. And don’t even get me started on my love of post cards! Everywhere I go, I stop, and have to buy some, they are harder to find than you think. I’ve had store clerks actually turn their heads sideways and stare at me when I ask if they sell postcards.

These days the only things that come in the mail are bills or solicitations. Receiving a letter, card, post card, is rare. As much as I love writing letters, I love getting them too. There is something so romantic about them.  Well, most of the time. A few years ago, this guy I was seeing wrote me a letter. Sweet, right? Since we’d only been on two dates, maybe it was a little too soon. I don’t even think he knew my last name. Come to think about it, I know he didn’t, because he had to ask for it so he could mail me the letter. He told me he was debating giving it to me. I asked him why and he said because he didn’t want to scare me off. He probably should have gone with his gut on that one and held on to it for a little longer. However, I was open minded about it and thought, “how intense could it be? He barely knows me.” Instead of mailing it, he brought it with him the next time we hung out. While walking back to my car, he nervously handed me the letter, I told him I’d read it later when I got home. I had a feeling I shouldn’t have opened it. But there was no avoiding it, he gave it to me, I couldn’t say it got lost in the mail and I never received it. He was expecting a response. I had to. On the way home I got stuck in traffic and decided to read it. It was very sweet, but also very obvious we were not on the same page. My body literally rejected it. The acid in my stomach started to rise to my throat, I had to get out of the car. I couldn’t get home soon enough. I needed fresh air. Probably not the best sign, or response he was hoping for. We didn’t hang out again.

I still have that letter somewhere. I keep all of my letters, the good, and the not so good. They are pieces of my life.

xoxo