There is something about a letter that makes the heart smile, the stomach flip flop, the lips widen into a beaming sign of joy. Maybe because if feels like getting the hug you've always needed, or the inspiration you've longed for for so long.
It doesn't matter who it's from. A letter is a letter. As long as it's hand written, it's worth the wait.
There's something so blissfully happy-making about a letter that I feel bad for the people who don't get them. I think everyone in their life deserves to have a letter at least once in their life from a true friend.
And, believe me, coming from a person who gets very many letters, there is something about them that should not go without being appreciated.
For some reasons when a letter comes you will find me holding my breath as I watch the mail man exchange envelopes from my parents front window. Or you may even catch me improvising a very embarrassing happy dance that my roommate was so lucky to see a little over two weeks ago (yes, the front room blinds were closed.)
Then, there is that silence. That time in the mail box when it's empty. Or, at least, it is for you. Because you're the one making the person on the other end jump for joy. Your letter is reaching them, making their heart as happy as theirs made yours.
And then you wait.
Until, one day, POP! THERE IT IS! And it's the highlight of your day. The world is right again.
And then the letter ends.
But the words are forever. They are written down for your eyes to see, to take in, to eat up like heart candy.
And then your hand so cleverly writes another and sends it on its way to create a continuous ripple effect.
At least, until you don't need letters anymore.
Because that's the day you'll talk face to face again.
And you won't have to read between the lines for their smile or imagine them saying those words.
You'll see it. You'll hear them.
Because they're meant for your ears, just like the words on those pages are meant for your heart.
But until then, another letter.
And keep 'em comin.
Song of the day: Transatlanticism by Wenzel Temleton and Robert Pegg