Handwritten and Homemade

I don’t like the taste of the adhesive on the envelope. I wish it wasn’t that last part of writing a letter, it is slightly bitter and leaves a filmy residue on your tongue.

Though it doesn’t taste too great, it seals in all the sentiments you want to express. The words that encompass your care because you took the time to feel the paper and let the ink flow. Every thought is pondered before it is written in your own handwriting, unedited and homemade.

In antiquated moments like this, you give up time as an object. You treat it like it is merely there, it just exists. You don’t have to save it, give it, or meticulously schedule it. Instead you let it fleet away, allowing yourself to be present. Savoring that moment allows the bond to deepen. As the letter travels in planes and cars, it ages. Time seeps in and makes the words a little richer. It builds anticipation and gives the lucky receiver a long moment to think about the sender, in hours and minutes.

That letter will send, with time at its heels. The paper is fresh at first but displays the nicks and rips that sprinkle onto every life, reflective of the rough path to love that we willingly choose. The lasting impression is that it will build a bond tighter than illuminous screens and plastic keys.

There is no formula to a handwritten and homemade letter, no rules, no norms. It is what it is and has a tremendous power to tether heart strings together, making lives a bit more meaningful.

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