I'm trying to get rid of all the clutter and things I don't need around the house. I felt the need to just keep what I use and just learn to let go. I have a hard time letting go of things, not only things, of people too and feelings like love and anger.
As I was organizing some things, I saw piles and piles of letters from old loves and friends from the place where I grew up.These letters are filled with love, promises, sadness, happiness and longing. These letters kept me sane being so far away from home. It gave me hope, It gave me something to look forward to. Getting the mail from the mailbox in that tiny mail room on the first floor of our apartment building was the highlight of my day.
I wrote to them like a diary. Writing something each day for weeks before finally putting it in an envelope to mail it. That was before the internet and the only way to communicate was overseas calls that were so expensive and snail mail.
I would put a stamp on my letters and put them in the outgoing mail box for the mailman to mail for me. I remember one day, when I went to the mail room to see If I had letters in the mail box I saw one of my letters on the floor, ripped open. I wrote the letters in that envelope for days and there it was laying on the floor and it was like my whole heart was ripped out of my chest for everyone to see. I picked it up and cried and cried on my bed and after I cried, I rewrote everything on the letter to mail it.
As I was organizing some things, I saw piles and piles of letters from old loves and friends from the place where I grew up.These letters are filled with love, promises, sadness, happiness and longing. These letters kept me sane being so far away from home. It gave me hope, It gave me something to look forward to. Getting the mail from the mailbox in that tiny mail room on the first floor of our apartment building was the highlight of my day.
I wrote to them like a diary. Writing something each day for weeks before finally putting it in an envelope to mail it. That was before the internet and the only way to communicate was overseas calls that were so expensive and snail mail.
I would put a stamp on my letters and put them in the outgoing mail box for the mailman to mail for me. I remember one day, when I went to the mail room to see If I had letters in the mail box I saw one of my letters on the floor, ripped open. I wrote the letters in that envelope for days and there it was laying on the floor and it was like my whole heart was ripped out of my chest for everyone to see. I picked it up and cried and cried on my bed and after I cried, I rewrote everything on the letter to mail it.
I know I have to learn to let go of things but I don't think these would be some of them. These are a part of me that I'm just not willing to let go. At least, not yet.
I miss getting letters and sending letters. Things are so different now. Some of my old friends are just a click away and a chat away but I feel like they are farther from me now than how they were during those days when we wrote letters to one another.
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