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Love Letters - treasures from past loves

Updated on March 28, 2014
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Love letters straight from the heart

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This is my album of Love Letters. Its cover is made of thick vinyl and a clear plastic covering is added for a longer lasting protection.
This is my album of Love Letters. Its cover is made of thick vinyl and a clear plastic covering is added for a longer lasting protection.
This is my album of Love Letters. Its cover is made of thick vinyl and a clear plastic covering is added for a longer lasting protection.

There is this thrill of secrecy in written and hand-delivered love letters

(I lovingly picked a few out of the several love letters I had personally compiled during the `70s, `80s and `90s to post here. It`s been long years and today these notes brought me smiles and chuckles. Hopefully, this will not offend my past loves.)

Scented papers, fancy stationeries and a favourite writing pen are the least tools to love letter writing. Of course, one is head over heels with someone to be inspired to lock herself inside her bedroom and start putting her thoughts into words, into writing, onto the fragrant dainty paper laid just right beneath her chin. She wants to be comfy, so she turns on some soft ballads and love songs from her cassette tapes collection, the room dimly lit, pillow well positioned and making sure the bedroom door is secured. Her mood changes at most times happy and floating, reflecting endlessly in her poetry compositions, not only through her letters. Her stomach is pressing on the bed, feet swaying in the air as she continues to write.

In other times, she writes her reply in a poem.

She pours her heart beat by beat into a lovely poem if when she is in a poetic mood. It is fairly easy to write when she is happy and not as easy when tears start to fall and smudges the stationery though this dove-gray mood finds her with a sad story to write. Her feelings wish for love to be immeasurable, boundless and just there whenever. “Nothing More” is merely a faint wishful thinking for she knows that her pa’s precious advices will keep this budding young love tight but in proportionate limits. Her pa is strict and wants to see her finish school, but young love knows how to find its way through letter writing and obeying to be chaperoned by her three year old baby sister even dates to a simbahan (Sunday church). Simply and luckily enough, she does not have to struggle with her tiny chaperone. Little sister in little piggy tails is fine with a paper cone of fried peanuts and an ice cream in a coloured waffle cone!

Though she had to keep these letters secret from her pa, she openly shares not each one but some letters to her ma. She sits beside her and they both read it together. Her face lit up by her smile of the assurance of a mother-daughter oath to keep it between them.

Her love letters did not come delivered by a mailman. She receives them hand-delivered in secret missions and sends her written messages back just the same way. Over those years, she has compiled her love letters in a rectangular-shaped album with ivory-white pages and its cover protectively covered with clear plastic, the same kind she uses for her school books. Inside her Love Letters album are pale stationeries and envelopes delicately arranged from the very first puppy-love to the treasures of hand-carried letters from several other young suitors.

Dried stemmed roses and a little-sweet-nothing note on a silver foil candy wrap are noticeably marked as part of her crisp album. Miraculously in awe that her favourite Reynolds blue ball pen used in letter writing still sits inside the book. She remembers her ma telling her, “Don’t throw, return or burn the letters away. One day when you have children of your own, you can show them your asset.” “You can tell your kids, “Look how many suitors mommy had.”

Two beautiful daughters shared her secrets of the love letters she had kept for years to be shared with them when they turned to teens. She tells her girls, “He loves me, he loves me yes.” The girls’ reactions were priceless and are worth the years of waiting to finally share it with them.

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