One year for my Birthday, Andy wrote me a sonnet. We had only been dating a month, and it was that new relationship predicament, of what to do. He typed it on a piece of his new "signature" stationary, which was part of becoming a "new man in San Francisco." It was perfect and sweet, and still hangs above my dresser, where I see if every morning as I'm putting on my jewelry and getting ready for the day. A simple love letter, to me, about me.
I love letters. I'm extremely fond of the hand-written note, more so than email or even the telephone. I love the time it requires to be set aside for the purpose, set aside for the person to whom the letter is being written. I love being able to say what you want without interruption, and the patient anticipation of one being returned.
Do you send love letters? To a long-distance love? A note tucked in your sweetheart's pocket? Even just to friends?