I was thinking about love letters and remembered how much I enjoy them… how much they say about humanity. Then, I remembered that I had written once about how much I enjoy love letters. I decided to retrieve my musings on this wonderfully romantic topic. I dusted it up and decided to re-post it here… Didn’t change much, I’m afraid — still feel the same way.
It turns out that on the day I wrote this note that I was seated in an airport lounge supposed to be working but instead found myself day dreaming… imagine, I still do this — let my mind wander off, lost in some fantasy.
I am reading instead what I love the most in the world – some fiction novel that’s a cross between romance and chic lit. I am loving the character – Valentina: 34; single; in love with a man who lives far away. And she just received a letter from said man. It got me thinking – I can’t remember when I last received a love letter. Damn it… I just realized that I really really want a love letter… Valentina’s could be a model:
“… I wondered if it could be true, that you might reciprocate the feelings I had, and turn my longing to kisses. Now, I hope. Do you feel as I do?”
Do people talk like this anymore?
I suppose that in the 19th Century and back it was more common… any 21st Century takers?
Do people, even write letters any more? I am not talking about hot, steamy emails or text messages. I mean real, live, par avion covered letters, scripted in pen.
I would imagine that they are a novelty. I can also see how they could be an exercise in frustration – it took me about 2 months once to receive a wedding invitation through Kenya Post.
But you know, I remember, once when I was in love, around 10 years ago, receiving about six or seven love letters in about six weeks of summer. I looked forward to those envelopes, dotted with cologne spots and the most tender words I have ever had the pleasure of reading. For me… and not by me. I was so eager to hear what my love’s heart wanted to say. It was so so silly romantic but I enjoyed it thoroughly.
Unabashedly soaked it all in.
Sometimes I wonder if I have outgrown such indulgence as really and truly believing in the value of a love letter. Mmmmhhh. It seems that I might be a little sentimental. Must be residual from having my heart awakened and having attended the most beautiful wedding last Friday. Seriously, though, do modern and post modern mentalities even debate these things? Is it possible to be too sophisticated so that love letters are so yesterday’s news?
Forget the musings… I just really want a love letter.
I am so amused by how consistent I am in my longings… I still feel the same way.
I think, for me, it would be quite in order to receive a love letter and for it to be as priceless as diamond ring. I guess that’s really not odd — writers love words, hear words, and believe words.
Nope. Not odd at all.