Because nothing feels like it like Love Letters can

Love letters: stash 'em or trash 'em?

I have had my fair share of love letters in my lifetime.  I don’t clearly remember the very first time I got mine. All I know is that it was from a boy whom I really liked in fifth grade. It was scribbled in pencil on a piece of intermediate paper.

I recall with fondness how one cutesy love note bore more cutesy love notes which led to something cutesy – more popularly known as puppy love. Alas, my mother read all the letters stuffed in my school bag and crumpled them into a huge ball of rubbish. Unfortunately I was too young to know the importance of stashing these precious scraps away from queer eyes.

My first boyfriend also wrote me love letters, which he’d usually hand me to my surprise. His letters didn’t say much, but were enough to make me swoon and fall even more in love with him at that time. I still have them, hidden safely somewhere.

My second boyfriend, who was sweet in every way, used to write me love letters with so much passion and creativity. One he had smothered in his favorite perfume, another he had embellished with rose petals and tiny little beads - the works, never mind the bad poetry. (grins) I'd write him love letters too, with the hardest attempts at making mine more passionate and creative than the ones I received from him. I didn’t get to keep all love letters he had written for me, as I burned some of them after a bitter breakup.

I also keep letters from so-called 'admirers'. I hardly ever read these notes but on instances when I pore over them, it never fails to flatter me knowing I have, in a way, experienced what it’s like to be adored.

In a world where everything is just a click away, love letters are seemingly a thing of the past; its beauty nearing a halt. Hand-written confessions of love and affection are being conveniently replaced by email, text messaging and other techie means possible.

However, compared to these modern ways of expressing one’s feelings, the beauty of love letters lies in its surefire ability to draw emotional response. It can make you giggle, swoon, cry tears of joy or even embarrass you. There's always a big difference when you receive an "I love you" message from your significant other when it's handwritten than when it's typed in on a keyboard/keypad.

It's a good thing I got to keep some love letters for me. These documents of confessed passion are a stark reminder of how you became someone’s inspiration. It is a written record of someone who poured his time and effort to weave words out of pure emotion, nevermind if he's not a gifted writer.

I've learned of this  now, as I  happened to come across these letters.  I will always remember and be thankful that at some point in my life, somebody loved me; that I became special in his life and that I was once the apple of his eye -  even if the relationship is gone or the feeling had long fizzled out.

It's been a long, long  while since I last received a love letter. My boyfriend of three years, though sweet and one of a kind, has never written me one yet, ever. But in case he's reading this... :)

Would you believe me if I lied?

Reposting this from my Friendster blog. Just one of my older posts I dont cringe re-reading at all. 

I love the usual office chatter. It is, perhaps, the only breather i get from the gruesome work that i do in my little blue cubicle. There’s always witty banter involved, with lots of humor to boot. Anyone in the room can just bring up a topic or throw a question at anyone, and you have to think on your toes and come up with something that will them blow them away. 

Of course, that’s not expected of me, nor I am obliged to do so anyway. But between shutting them out of their wits and enjoying the amusement of being playfully picked on, you know what I’d go for.

The other day, one of my officemates asked a female colleague in the room at what age she lost her virginity. Without batting an eyelash, she answered, and the rest broke out in chorus. Then, they turned to me and asked the same question.

"Mel, how old were you when you did it?"

"Would you believe me if I lied?" I said.

For a second or two, the room went silent. Dinky, my trainer and the eldest in the team, broke the silence and said "Philosophical ang approach ni Mel, ah."

What am I trying to say? Whether or not i am a virgin, it’s none of their business. And even if it didn’t matter to them whether or not i am a virgin, it’s still not their business to know. Besides, being asked that kind of question from people i barely even know on a personal level is like being given lingerie by a boyfriend on our first date. You get the picture.

You don’t have to know. And i dont have to tell you.

image source: http://goo.gl/gkmPu