I’m a huge fan of letters, the real and probably out-dated letters. There is nothing better than getting one, waiting the right moment to open it. I know it’s more complicated, but there is nothing better than that. Nonetheless, I stopped writing. So, how does that happen?
I started writing letters as soon as I learned to write. I had great-grandmother with whom I was very close. Because we lived in two different cities and when my school started, I couldn’t see her that often, we started writing letters. Can you imagine that chicken scratch of the 8-year old? Yep, she had to survive that and bear all the stories which 8-year old would tell. Despite that she wrote be back every time, told the most beautiful stories and taught me how precious people and stories are. Since then, I was writing letters in one way or another. At some point, I even belonged to the pen pal community initiated by German post. That was quite nice because I could learn more about other culture and practice my English (I was 16 or 17 at that time). Also, I was a part of Postcrossing community but that seemed very… nonpersonal. I wrote a letter to every person whose address I had because they changed me and shaped me in one way or another. Now… now I barely write. The only person who gets my letters is the person who lives with me. Sad, isn’t it?
I wrote letters to make others happy, to share a story, to share a part of my life, to thank in a way. The problem is – when you write a paper letter, you can never know if a person got it. Thus, when you write a letter and you don’t get any response, you give up at some point. You simply assume that a person didn’t get that at all. Also, as cheap as it sounds, the life happens. There are so many distractions and things to do that it can be difficult to find the right time, the right story to write down.
Nonetheless, I miss writing letters. They are more personal and maybe even a bit more important. Hopefully, the next round of written letters will come soon. I would love to make others happy.