All Things Profane and Sacred

I've kept most of my letters in a black plastic folder in my closet. The letters stopped rolling in a few years ago. The only exception are a stack of letters from a friend who did some jail time-no email in jail. The advent of serious email usage stunted my personal history archives. Looking at them, I wonder how much we've lost with email. I don't want to sound like some moaning twit-Oh, Horrors! How the World has Moved On!-but the self flushing email can never replace a handwritten letter.

I have a letter from a close friend who died a few years ago. I have erotic poetry sent from my first boyfriend. I have stalker letters from high school friends (complete with a picture of the hamburger heart they left on my car).

Looking at these pages has so much feeling and emotion tied to it. I remember how I felt when I got the letter, and what was going on in my life then. Just as I'll never again feel exactly the way I did at that moment in time, I will likely never see many of the writers again.